Quick note: I have posted the following photo entries in such a way so that scrolling from the top of the page you’ll go from our earliest to newest photos. The photos start in La Paz, where our trip began three weeks ago.
Leaving La Paz
On Saturday morning we hoped to have clear skies so we could get a good photo of La Paz with Illimani in the background. But the clouds foiled us again.
So we took a bus to Calle Jaen, a quiet historic street in La Paz, which is home to four municipal museums. We wanted to see these museums before we left later in the afternoon for Copacabana, where we would see Lake Titicaca.
Walking, bus ride, walking, walking, bus ride, walking, walking, bus ride…
We awoke early this morning feeling much better than yesterday. We both slept fairly well, though the beds are a bit….bowed, I guess. My neck was still a bit sore from the plane ride, too.
We changed our plans for Friday because we heard about a transportation strike scheduled for Monday, the day we originally intended to leave La Paz. Travel will probably be impossible that day, so we realized we would have to leave for Oruro on Sunday night instead of Monday. That forced us to push up our excursions to the ruins of Tiwanaku and Lake Titicaca. On tap for today was Tiwanaku.
Continue reading “Walking, bus ride, walking, walking, bus ride, walking, walking, bus ride…”
Altitude gives us a headache
A quick update on how the rest of Thursday went. Basically we were able to meet our friend Carla for lunch. She was waiting for us at a theater on the main avenue in La Paz. We went to a restaurant called “Dumbo” (yes, that Dumbo) and had a nice time talking, showing pictures, eating, etc.
We arrive … in a bowl
We arrived to El Alto (a city in the altiplano adjacent to La Paz) this morning around 7:30. No problems with the flight, other than a couple delays. In fact, I was amazed we weren’t selected for a “thorough” screening when we went through TSA at Lambert. That was the first time that’s happened since we got married.
On Wednesday we were invited to eat lunch with Glennie and Marilyn Wry. They are my neighbors, physically. Their house is on the ground floor of a 3-story student housing building which is right next the the guest quarters where I live.
Upon arriving for lunch from El Jordán, Marilyn called to let me know that my dad had called Becky Turner. Apparently someone in my family saw a news report on CNN about flooding in Santa Cruz — so bad that the water had carried people away. They were afraid for me.
Well, rest assured that I haven’t been swept away anywhere (unless you’re talking about love…).
Continue reading “Media scares”