The Saya Brewery in Achocalla is owned by Remo, a forty-something Bolivian entrepreneur who also serves as its beermaster. It actually qualifies as a microbeer and, at the risk of running some advertisement here, is far superior in taste to the other giants in La Paz like Pacena and Huari. The downside is that only 10,000 bottles are sold per day, meaning it is still very much a day-to-day business operation where expenses need to be observed and waste avoided.
The hashers followed Remo's invitation to hold the event there recently, being that beer is the main ingredient of any hash, this was a no-brainer.
We took a convoy of five cars (with several more to follow later) and drove the thirty minutes or so out to Achocalla, a pretty little bucolic suburb of La Paz. It is what you'd expect of a suburb - clean, small, familiar, with superb views of the mountains and a lake that attracts plenty of Pacenas for the weekend. This is perfect green farmland combining all the charms of Bolivia…with all of its farm animals, as it turns out! You can virtually make a checklist of all farm animals and then cross them out one by one as they become visible – donkeys, cows, chickens, sheep, pigs. Add to the fact that the people are much nicer and more laid back than in the urban setting of La Paz, and you have a charming little weekend getaway at your fingertips.
The brewery itself is well hidden, but not unknown to the villagers, who are not above rapping on the door occasionally to ask for some unfiltered Saya beer. Remo, always obliging, knows the value of decent community standing very well, and though its more conservative members might frown at the idea of a city dweller producing suds in their midst, they can't deny he's been a valuable contributor to the community as well as an outstanding neighbor.
Remo proudly likes to point out how everything is recycled within his small compound, not a given in a country that lacks technological fundamentals like Bolivia. Even the runoff from his bathrooms is treated in a little water work – certainly a good long term solution both ecologically and financially.
The hashers themselves treat themselves to a run around Achochalla's pristine lake and run just a little faster this time around, owing mainly to the dark and menacing clouds gathering in the distance. This also entails stepping into mud puddles and crossing a racetrack. Anything to stay dry and get to the beer quickly.
The people in Achocalla themselves greet this novelty with a collective shake of the heads or with simple greetings. I can even recall a farmer we pass with his two cows offering one of his cows for immediate consumption, coca leaf stained teeth showing. Unlike La Paz, it's not like these people don't have a sense of humor.
The valley of Achocalla itself is a sight to behold. Whereas I've heard people compare La Paz to an erosion ditch, Achocalla is little more than a village really, despite its claim of being a suburb, and has far more green and water to offer than La Paz itself. It's far less intimidating than La Paz and almost feels like a different area or province altogether.
Great place, certainly, and one of Bolivia's many little hidden treasures.
The hashers followed Remo's invitation to hold the event there recently, being that beer is the main ingredient of any hash, this was a no-brainer.
We took a convoy of five cars (with several more to follow later) and drove the thirty minutes or so out to Achocalla, a pretty little bucolic suburb of La Paz. It is what you'd expect of a suburb - clean, small, familiar, with superb views of the mountains and a lake that attracts plenty of Pacenas for the weekend. This is perfect green farmland combining all the charms of Bolivia…with all of its farm animals, as it turns out! You can virtually make a checklist of all farm animals and then cross them out one by one as they become visible – donkeys, cows, chickens, sheep, pigs. Add to the fact that the people are much nicer and more laid back than in the urban setting of La Paz, and you have a charming little weekend getaway at your fingertips.
The brewery itself is well hidden, but not unknown to the villagers, who are not above rapping on the door occasionally to ask for some unfiltered Saya beer. Remo, always obliging, knows the value of decent community standing very well, and though its more conservative members might frown at the idea of a city dweller producing suds in their midst, they can't deny he's been a valuable contributor to the community as well as an outstanding neighbor.
Remo proudly likes to point out how everything is recycled within his small compound, not a given in a country that lacks technological fundamentals like Bolivia. Even the runoff from his bathrooms is treated in a little water work – certainly a good long term solution both ecologically and financially.
The hashers themselves treat themselves to a run around Achochalla's pristine lake and run just a little faster this time around, owing mainly to the dark and menacing clouds gathering in the distance. This also entails stepping into mud puddles and crossing a racetrack. Anything to stay dry and get to the beer quickly.
The people in Achocalla themselves greet this novelty with a collective shake of the heads or with simple greetings. I can even recall a farmer we pass with his two cows offering one of his cows for immediate consumption, coca leaf stained teeth showing. Unlike La Paz, it's not like these people don't have a sense of humor.
The valley of Achocalla itself is a sight to behold. Whereas I've heard people compare La Paz to an erosion ditch, Achocalla is little more than a village really, despite its claim of being a suburb, and has far more green and water to offer than La Paz itself. It's far less intimidating than La Paz and almost feels like a different area or province altogether.
Great place, certainly, and one of Bolivia's many little hidden treasures.
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