That's actually how they say it in La Paz. I can chuck the old Buenos Dias, as I have always known it. It is, literally, a new day.
We leave Charlotte early in the morning on a typical Southern day, 90 degrees plus humidity. A few scattered thunderstorms are predicted, and they fall by the time we land in Miami. Surprisingly, the cat travels quite well, although we will never know that, being that she doesn’t travel with us in the cabin. Thank God for that. Hard enough to look after a baby and a toddler. The cat would have put the icing on top of it all.
Six and a half hours to Bolivia from Miami, good deal. La Paz is Eastern time, so no unnecessary break in our routine. The plane, of course, is late, but that’s American Airlines for you these days. There used to be a time when airlines (and their flight attendants, in particular) actually cared about passengers. These days, flight attendants all seem burned out, as if they truly didn’t enjoy their job anymore.
The plane is less than half empty, so we can spread out a little. I am a little apprehensive about the altitude sickness that will inevitably befall us, but for now I need to worry about Axl. Axl doesn’t wait till La Paz to get sick and does a double duty vomit paint job on our seats. The flight attendant gives me a few napkins and a trash bag. Too kind, really. Axl already has had his stomach acting up prior to the flight with huge bouts of diarrhea. Going to a place that is 12,000 feet up can’t possibly help.
When we get to La Paz, I feel winded the moment I get off the plane. As luck would have it, the airport is the highest point within the city at about 14,000 feet. We get the cat through customs and I breathe (with what little oxygen there is) a huge sigh of relief.
The moment we step outside, we realize how brass monkey cold it is. Eddy, our sponsor, explains that this is the end of winter in these parts. Swell, I am thinking. We go from 90 degrees plus to freezing within half a day. I don’t even attempt to catch anything of the city on our way to the house. It is too dark, and I realize I need to focus more on the lungs. Breathe deep. Easy does it.
The kids go to bed, we follow soon after.
The next day, we realize how beautiful the place really is. Nestled in a valley (not unlike Kathmandu), La Paz is surrounded by huge hills, a lot of them partly eroded, so that it appears that the city was built in the middle of Bryce Canyon. I still have to slam one cup of water after the other. Don’t get dehydrated, otherwise this might turn into the never-ending hangover. Liebi and the kids take it easy. Axl still feels a little sick. He doesn’t realize that he is over two miles high up here, that the same conditions vis a vis running and other physical activities simply don’t apply here. He’ll throw up a few more times before he finally gets the message. The cat and Bash seem blissfully unaware of all this.
We have a fireplace and use it, too. We are well supplied with firewood so that the only challenge now is not the cold, but how to get the kids away from the fireplace.
I am satisfied with our car, a Honda Pilot we bought from the guy who lived here before us. Eddy explains that the most frequent crime here in La Paz is stealing car parts. What’s more (or less, I suppose), you can find the same car parts at the market the next day and buy them back. The parts come with the license plate number attached to them. Wow. Charitable criminals indeed.
A uniformed guard strolls up and down the street and declares that this is his neighborhood, that he guards it with care, and for a small fee he will ensure your property is protected as well. We pass on that for now.
I need to get my breath back to enjoy this fully, but once I do, look out. This will be quite a trip.
We leave Charlotte early in the morning on a typical Southern day, 90 degrees plus humidity. A few scattered thunderstorms are predicted, and they fall by the time we land in Miami. Surprisingly, the cat travels quite well, although we will never know that, being that she doesn’t travel with us in the cabin. Thank God for that. Hard enough to look after a baby and a toddler. The cat would have put the icing on top of it all.
Six and a half hours to Bolivia from Miami, good deal. La Paz is Eastern time, so no unnecessary break in our routine. The plane, of course, is late, but that’s American Airlines for you these days. There used to be a time when airlines (and their flight attendants, in particular) actually cared about passengers. These days, flight attendants all seem burned out, as if they truly didn’t enjoy their job anymore.
The plane is less than half empty, so we can spread out a little. I am a little apprehensive about the altitude sickness that will inevitably befall us, but for now I need to worry about Axl. Axl doesn’t wait till La Paz to get sick and does a double duty vomit paint job on our seats. The flight attendant gives me a few napkins and a trash bag. Too kind, really. Axl already has had his stomach acting up prior to the flight with huge bouts of diarrhea. Going to a place that is 12,000 feet up can’t possibly help.
When we get to La Paz, I feel winded the moment I get off the plane. As luck would have it, the airport is the highest point within the city at about 14,000 feet. We get the cat through customs and I breathe (with what little oxygen there is) a huge sigh of relief.
The moment we step outside, we realize how brass monkey cold it is. Eddy, our sponsor, explains that this is the end of winter in these parts. Swell, I am thinking. We go from 90 degrees plus to freezing within half a day. I don’t even attempt to catch anything of the city on our way to the house. It is too dark, and I realize I need to focus more on the lungs. Breathe deep. Easy does it.
The kids go to bed, we follow soon after.
The next day, we realize how beautiful the place really is. Nestled in a valley (not unlike Kathmandu), La Paz is surrounded by huge hills, a lot of them partly eroded, so that it appears that the city was built in the middle of Bryce Canyon. I still have to slam one cup of water after the other. Don’t get dehydrated, otherwise this might turn into the never-ending hangover. Liebi and the kids take it easy. Axl still feels a little sick. He doesn’t realize that he is over two miles high up here, that the same conditions vis a vis running and other physical activities simply don’t apply here. He’ll throw up a few more times before he finally gets the message. The cat and Bash seem blissfully unaware of all this.
We have a fireplace and use it, too. We are well supplied with firewood so that the only challenge now is not the cold, but how to get the kids away from the fireplace.
I am satisfied with our car, a Honda Pilot we bought from the guy who lived here before us. Eddy explains that the most frequent crime here in La Paz is stealing car parts. What’s more (or less, I suppose), you can find the same car parts at the market the next day and buy them back. The parts come with the license plate number attached to them. Wow. Charitable criminals indeed.
A uniformed guard strolls up and down the street and declares that this is his neighborhood, that he guards it with care, and for a small fee he will ensure your property is protected as well. We pass on that for now.
I need to get my breath back to enjoy this fully, but once I do, look out. This will be quite a trip.
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