Travel Adventures to the Edge of Town

Last night, at 9pm, we anxiously walked through the bustling bus station in La Paz with all of our current belongings. Like everywhere else, friendly people helped us find our bus that we had pre-booked and we were escorted to our bus and the seats that would be ours for the next nine hours.

Now, what do you picture when you think of a South American bus? Are you picturing open doors and windows and chickens flapping about? While I’m sure those exist, those are not the travel buses! This bus was the nicest I have ever been on. A double decker that only had three seats per row because the seats were so wide. The seats came with a sort of foot rest and leaned back to 160 degrees (don’t worry, there was plenty of space for this!). Plus, they gave us all a blanket!

We really debated how to get from La Paz to Uyuni, our next destination. Their are flights, but they are rare and not inexpensive. An overnight bus is $14. I’m sorry we didn’t get to see scenery along the way, but this way, our travels didn’t take up a whole day. Now, the bus was nice, but the roads are not necessarily, so the bus rattled much of the night, but with sleeping pills and audiobooks, we were able to at least make the nine hours pass quickly. Most times when I was awakened, there were bright city (or town) lights around, but about an hour before our stop, there was absolutely nothing (more on that later, but that’s why we’re here!). 

At 6am, our bus arrived precisely on time to a pitch black, well below freezing small town. We didn’t really have much of a plan, but hoped if nothing else, we could sit in the lobby of our hotel for a few hours until the sun came up, things opened and we warmed up a bit. Our hotel didn’t look too far, so we bundled up, took off by foot in a strange, dark city using the maps on our phones to help us. The town was absolutely dead at 6am, minus the few dogs that ran past or curiously came over to sniff us. We only encountered a couple of people and about that many cars. 

Now, many of you may know the story better than I do, but as legend has it, Butch Cassidy ran off to a small town in Bolivia. It was not this one, but from what I’ve read, it is similar. So, get Butch Cassidy in your head (the old West, not the train robber). Got it? Now, imagine that town was transported to modern days. You may have the start to the right picture of Uyuni. One horse town? Yes, although I haven’t seen a horse. One traffic light? Well, I haven’t seen that either.

Ok, so you’ve got an image of two lost Americans wandering through a frigid foreign town in pitch black, yes? I’ll add to the picture. Our hotel is on the edge of town. I mean, go to the edge and turn left. So, once we passed the train tracks, we still had about ten blocks left to go. At that point, the streets were possibly covered in sand or just made of sand. Most buildings around us were dilapidated or never finished being built. We saw incredibly few signs of life, and I’m honestly surprised no tumbleweed blew by in front of us. We got to the edge, and I mean edge because out in front of us is vast nothingness with a few mountains in the distance and didn’t see our hotel. Panic started setting in. We checked the map again and we were about a block off. After turning two dark, abandoned corners, we saw our refuge! And thank heavens because Jess’ eyelashes has icicles on them and our masks seemed to be dripping with condensation.

By this point it’s 6:30, glitters of light start to show in the distance and we’ve walked at least a mile and are questioning why we didn’t take a taxi. But, our gracious host let’s us in and even lets us in to our adorable room. It’s precious, and probably the honeymoon sweet, although there is a big bed and a twin bed. But there are swans artistically carved on the salt wall (yep, plus the bedside table is made of salt, too!) above the bed and there’s a heart-shaped large jacuzzi tub. It’s perfect, right? Well, through Google Translate we learned that because of the frigid temps, the pipes are frozen so our water doesn’t work, but we can use the bathroom in the main building. Oh, and have I mentioned that they don’t have central heating here? Don’t worry, beds have lots of blankets and we have a gas space heater in our room… we just can’t use it when we sleep. Ah, adventures of traveling!

Our Hotel

We rested for a while knowing that our true adventure begins tomorrow, and it was okay if we didn’t rush to see the…sights?  Several hours later, we awoke and hunger led us into town. This side of the train tracks looks just as abandoned in the daylight, but the other side was bustling! Restaurants, who thrive off of tourism, all serve the same touristy food of pizza, burgers and pasta with photographic menus. The restaurant we chose had a pretentious cat and friendly dog inside, so obviously we chose the best one!

We found more seemingly endless markets with everything you could ever need. Is it just because this is a weekend? Is it like this everyday? One small market even had some sort of fair going on as well. Hundreds of people participated in eating street food, playing games, possibly doing some sort of lottery and lots of merry-making. But once again, when you cross the train tracks, it is completely dead.

Uyuni is an interesting town, and I certainly enjoyed our day of rest here (and don’t worry, water, hot water even was readily available in the afternoon!). But it is the gateway to a world of wonder that we get to start exploring tomorrow! Hopefully, we’ll see some alpacas, flamingos, and maybe even some snow, but I’m hoping no tumbleweeds head our way.

La Paz (Bolivia)

There are several other La Paz’s in the world, so if you Google it, make sure you’re looking for the one in Bolivia! Also, the first photos that usually pop up are of a beautifully colorful quiet street. We found it, and it is truly lovely, but it is not typical of the area!

The city is a true wonder! It is built in a valley and expands up the mountainside (and yet is still at over 11,000 feet). At the top of the mountain is El Alto, the sister city, a sprawling metropolis that we understand is the highest city in the world.

Streets are narrow, most are cobblestone, and it seems that no matter where you go, you must walk up as well as down. Traffic is hectic, busy, and crossing the street was at times like taking your life into your own hands. Most of the cars were taxis, small minibuses or a scattering of large tourist buses. We saw incredibly few personal cars. One guide told us that they like traffic lights there, they are like Christmas lights: real pretty for decorations but don’t serve a real purpose.

Plus, many of the streets were taken over by markets. You could walk for miles in this city through markets that spill over sidewalks. Small stores have doors open in the street, and women set up small tables or just mats on the ground with a tarp tent above them selling just about anything you could think of. Stores and booths were generally grouped together, so we’d see stalls of soaps and shampoos, then ones of shoes, others of light bulbs and brooms, then clothing ones, pastas, fish, fresh fruit. It was almost like a giant Target, but every aisle was sponsored by a different person and you the customer got some choice over your product and price. It was overwhelming to be sure, but no one was pushy. Sure, they offered, but when we said, “No gracias,” they smiled politely and went on to the next person.

Our favorite shopping was of course in the tourist shops where colors galore filled every shelf. They were filled with sweaters, ponchos, scarves and pillow cases. There were purses, pouches and earrings, enough to fill the rainbow. Cozy socks and leg warmers adorned with alpacas and cute fuzzy miniature alpacas attracted our attention (although we still have yet to see an alpaca, but I hear they do exist!).

We saw dogs everywhere roaming the streets. They didn’t beg, and while they didn’t always look clean, they didn’t look starved. More often than not, they were wearing some sort dog sweater. In fact, I’ve never seen more dog adornments in any one area than I saw in Bolivia. We also learned that many are “community” dogs that are looked after by many who live in the area.

On our first morning, well, afternoon, as we slept the morning away, a parade greeted us outside our balcony window. Yes, our precious little room even included a tiny balcony. As it turns out, Thursday was Corpus Christi Day, a religious holiday, and much of the city was off of work celebrating. We believe the Arch Bishop rode by our window, followed by different organizations and a few bands. Quite the considerate way for the Bolivians to welcome us to their country!

On our first afternoon, we took a great walking tour with Denise. She was energetic, proud of her city and a great story teller. Our tour started in a lovely little square, but she chose that spot because of the building adjacent to the square. It was a large, unassuming building with no windows and a long line of people outside. It was in fact a low-security prison, and Denise had stories galore about what goes on in there. 

Inside, there is very little police presence so the 3,000 men have created their own little world inside. Different areas in the prison are nicer than others and require rent that matches the level of accommodation. Some families even move into the prison so that they are only paying one rent. As it is its own little community, people inside have jobs. There are elected leaders and other people share their traits and talents like mending, cooking, cleaning, building, etc. Some people had to get creative to find a job and became taxis. No, there are no cars within the building, but rather just a person who holds your hand and leads you through the complicated web inside and delivers you to your loved one. As one could only expect, the production of cocaine is also a large money maker inside, and the guards seem to turn the other way. To get the products outside, they often find holes in the walls or ceiling and throw out a diaper filled with the drugs. Brad Pitt actually bought the movie rights to a book, Marching Powder, written by an Australian man who chose to live inside for three months to see what was really going on.

We also learned about the cholitas. I have done some research to make sure that I am using this word appropriately and its meaning, so if in my following statements I say something wrong, please let me know. Cholita usually refers to a woman who self identifies as a member of an indigenous culture. This means, she dresses in traditional clothing and follows traditional beliefs, customs and ways of life. When the indigenous women first encountered the European women, they were enthralled with the large hoop skirts and have over the years developed their own poofy skirts. Their skirts extenuate the hips, as wide-hips are known to be attractive as they show potential for child-bearing, and cholitas often have 8-12 children. The women carry all they can to sell on the market streets in large, colorful cloths they tie up and carry on their backs. Because of this (and think of what I’ve already told you about La Paz), do you know what is considered to be the sexiest part of the cholita? No, not the hips. The calves. These women walk up and down streets hauling heavy loads, and often a small child or two. Plus, they are wearing long, thick skirts and so they rarely show off the strong muscles hidden underneath. Plus, you know those small hats they wear upon their heads? Well, of course they have a history as well! When the Europeans were first sending over items to sell to the indigenous people, they were planning to send the popular hats at the time (think top hats with a mix of Charlie Chaplin). They knew that the people of the area were shorter, so they assumed their heads were smaller, and sent hats that were small. Salesmen however, did a great job upon their arrival, and now women still wear these small hats.

We went on another food tour, because, as I’ve told you, that’s one of our favorite things to do! I didn’t catch as much information on this one, but I once again over stuffed myself. We ate more beef heart, and I must admit that I ate a lot and it was divine. Sure, it does sound disturbing, but you must remember their love of Mother Earth, and so, in honoring the animal, they still use every part of it. A tasty smoothie gave us some much needed vitamins. There were trout and pork dishes with potatoes. Potatoes are a staple here with over 1200 varieties. People even dehydrate potatoes and keep them for years before rehydrating them and cooking them. I loved the tasty sweet drink and the peanut soup, but my favorite of the night was api con pastel. The pastel was a sort of puff pastry with powdered sugar on top and creamy cheese in the middle. The drink was perfect on a cold night. It was warm and filling and tasted of Christmas. It was made of two different corns (white and purple), and make sure to think closer to grits than corn syrup, with a touch of orange and a lot of cloves and cinnamon. My mouth craves another! 

Our company on the food tour may have been the best part, and quite possibly why I didn’t get quite as much information about the food. There were six of us and although we communicated in English, Jess and I were the only native speakers. There was our guide, Max, a jovial entertainer. There was Ted, a German who self-retired fairly young after working much too hard and is in his third year traveling the world. He got stuck in Indonesia during COVID. I know, poor thing, right? He had even done the same tree house experience we had done in Laos! Then there was a young woman and her brother-in-law. She was originally from Romania, but living in Amsterdam working on the aesthetics of electric cars. She is about six months in to her year long adventure. Her brother in law, a half-Thai man living in Germany was here to do a big hike with her for a few days, and he and his wife and child are about to move to Bali. We loved hearing all their tales! Conversation flowed easily through the evening and I enjoyed the company even more than the delicious food.

With a little extra time to spare, we visited the largest cemetery in town. It is massive, and well organized, and spotted with beautiful murals. All of the plots are above ground in large walls about 5-6 high and who knows how many long. There were little doors in front with locks on them so that families could bring things for and to honor their loved ones. Some plots (in the middle) were knocked out and emptied. After researching later, what we learned was that people are buried in these for five years, then removed and cremated. There were some very small plots, possibly where some where moved after cremation, but we are not completely certain. We also noticed lots of notice signs on them, and from what we could understand through Google Translate, it was sort of a “your rent is due” notice. In our research, we found that the plots are terribly expensive, and so it is possible that if some families can’t afford the full price, bodies may be cremated sooner.

Our last afternoon was spent with several hours on the aerial cable car. After all, it’s an inexpensive way to spend some time and see the city. We went to the mountain peak, into El Alto and back again and only broke a small sweat when the cars across the city paused for a couple of minutes.

We watched street performers, dogs and children chasing pigeons, and observed people from the steps in the plaza of San Francisco, watching the sunset before heading out on our next adventure.

I’m thankful for the time in La Paz, and the Bolivian people have impressed me so much that I’m incredibly grateful to have a bit more time in this welcoming country.

Valley of the Moon

Aside from the Witch’s Market, we had two big things on our list to do here in La Paz. We decided to combine the two in a bit of an adventure! Valley of the Moon is a unique landscape and small hiking area outside of the city that we wanted to see. It was quite a long way to get there, but the aerial cable car system in La Paz would get us at least part of the way there. It was there that I had taken notes from fellow travelers about exactly how to get there, but we were still a bit anxious and prepared to get a taxi or call an Uber.

Amazingly, the cable car stations are difficult to find. One would think that it would be easy to spot where these above ground “cars” are coming and going from, but amongst the tall buildings, they’ve done a great job of somehow making them blend in. Much like subway lines, these lines are color coded and often meet up with other lines. We got on the sky blue line, headed to the green line with no specific details after that. 

The little cable car could comfortably fit about eight, but they are expensive for the locals, so they are rarely full. We got on with an older gentleman who could not have been happier to try to converse with us in our very little Spanish. He was wonderful, cheerful and welcoming and we were thankful for his company.

A few stops later, a younger man with headphones on joined our car. The older man asked him if he spoke English. He took off his headphones and said, “yes, very well, how can I help?” We didn’t realize then how lucky we were to have found Andy. He asked where we were from, and when learning Jess was from Denver, he said, “Oh, it is 5,280 feet high there.” He said he was an NBA fan and saw that on the court each game. Andy’s mother worked in Bolivia at the US Embassy for years, and now he was working there as an executive assistant. He had also taught a summer camp for special needs kids in upstate New York.

He helped us transfer lines, then took us off at his stop where he walked us downhill a bit through the neighborhood he was proud to call home, pointing things out along the way and being a wonderful tour guide. He left us at the bus station with specific directions on what to do. Without him, we might have made it to the Valley of the Moon, but not by bus!

First, let me say, when I say bus station, I mean the corner where all the buses drive by. Second, when I say bus, I mean like a small 15-passenger van that operates as a bus with signs on the front saying where it is headed. 

We spotted the minibus we were looking for, and when we got in, confirmed that with the driver. He knew we were tourists and asked, “Valle de La Luna?” We rode in the minibus about twenty minutes up hill making frequent stops. At every stop, when someone entered, they greeted the passengers and the driver. The driver, rather than taking us to the town close to our destination dropped us off right at the entry way. Truly, the people of Bolivia could not be kinder!

Valley of the Moon is a unique landscape, almost reminiscent of southern Utah. It appears that years ago, this was all part of Lake Titicaca and what is left behind is clay formations from the waters. It looked much like the drip castles my father used to expertly create on our beach trips. It was a short walk through them, but worth the adventure getting back.

We paid a taxi to get us to the end of the green line so we could ride the cable car even further, enjoying peaceful, glorious views of the city below and the mountains surrounding it. Just FYI, for the two of us to ride the cable car for 30-45 minutes, it was the equivalent of $1.25.

Witch’s Market

When researching about La Paz, one of the number one tourist attractions is the Witch’s Market. I was excited to see it, but knew incredibly little else.

The Bolivian people are very superstitious. They also have a strong faith in Pachamama (Mama Earth). They believe that she is the one who grants all blessings. She loves sugar, flowers and alcohol (what woman doesn’t?). When taking a sip of their drinks, they often spill a little on the ground below or dip their fingers in and sprinkle just a bit to share with her.

When they are looking for something specific, or some sort of guidance, they go to a sort of shaman or spiritual guide. This person will tell them exactly what to go purchase from the Witch’s Market. It is usually certain herbs, flowers, specific alcohol and combinations of sugar concoctions. Then, the shaman helps you to burn these items as an offering to Pachamama.

When entering one of the small stores (come on, you know I was going to), it is almost reminiscent of a candy shop, although not one like I’ve ever seen. There are bright colored labels, plastic bags of sugar creations for exactly what you want, incense burning, bottles of different colored liquids, candles and boxes with very descriptive images. These images describe exactly what the potion inside is for, everything from curing cancer to losing weight to finding love to wealth to making love last longer… whatever you might need! 

The collection of sugar items also have small images that help describe what they may be for. We were warned not to eat them because they also have a lot of glue in them. Personally, I also don’t want to take what is intended for Pachamama.

The most disturbing thing found inside the market are the llama fetuses. Bare with me for a moment (and feel free to skip the picture below). First off, know that these fetuses were not killed, but passed naturally. They honor animals here. These fetuses are buried underneath new construction as an offering to Mother Earth to bless the building. The larger the building, the larger the fetus should be. There are even dark stories (that haven’t been proven) about sky scrappers having the body of a person underneath them.

But the Bolivians are also Catholic. They’ve made the religion their own and sort of combined the two. When the Spaniards first built a cathedral here, they wanted to convert the locals, so they had the locals help with the design and construction. So on the Basílica de San Francisco, amongst the ornate depictions outside of the church, there is also the face of a witch doctor with coca leaves in his mouth. Right next to a sculpture of San Francisco is an image of Pachamama giving birth to a flower.

As the story goes, the Spaniards wanted to bring religion to the people here but couldn’t find a way to get them to church, so they sort of tricked them. They noticed that when the locals had a big scare like almost falling down something or almost getting run over by an animal, they thought their soul briefly left them. So, they got the locals to come to church and put up mirrors everywhere. At this point, the indigenous people living here had not seen mirrors and they were baffled. The Spanish told them the mirrors were their souls and that they were trapped in the church. In order to save their souls from going to hell (they described that torture in detail), they had to return and visit the church.

No one should ever be tricked into believing something, but I love how the two beliefs of these overwhelmingly kind people have melded into one.

Late Night Travel Adventures

La Paz, Bolivia was our next destination after Lima. Puzzle piecing our trip together, over mountain ranges, was tricky. Places didn’t look that far apart on the map but where somehow seemingly impossible to get to from one another. 

La Paz was one of those. It’s only a two-hour direct flight. Perfect, no big deal, right? Well, the only direct flights I could find left at 1am, three days a week. Which means you have to leave for the airport by 10, which means you just stay up. That’s doable.

Then remember the two hour flight. That makes you arrive at 3am. But wait, just like those infomercials, there’s more. During the flight, we switched from central to eastern time zones, so we arrive at 4am.

The flight was seemingly smooth, although I felt quite sick and spent more time in an airplane bathroom than anyone ever should. (Did you read the food tour blog? Yeah, that was just a couple hours before…) Anyway, it passed and all is well, and I even slept through a few minutes of my audiobook after that.

We arrived in La Paz and had to go through immigration. Lima was quick, swift and simple. La Paz was not. Even though every booth had someone working in it (impressive for 4am!), the process took a long time. Somehow we ended up at the back of the longest line (probably due to our citizenship not being of a country near by). We finally made it to the front. I handed over my passport, and the adorable young man behind the counter asked me a question. I’ve learned to say, “Lo siento, no habla espanol,” making sure to apologize for my ignorance. He went to the computer, obviously to translate something, then came back to me and said, “Yo have visa?” 

Now, I had read on the embassy’s website that you needed a visa. If it was for a relatively short time, it was easiest just to pay some money at the airport. I tried to find more information, but kept getting stuck in a loophole, so decided, we would figure it out when we got there.

At this point, there are only about eight of us left from the flight in the immigration area, and not so shockingly, no other planes were arriving at this ridiculous hour. So, we were escorted to another line. Here, a very friendly man asked us of our plans. He took photos of our passports, our hotel confirmation and our flight out of Lima next month. He returned a while later with printed copies of these that we would need for our visa. In another line, we paid $160 to purchase a shiny visa for our brand new passports.

We left this area, leaving only one fellow traveler behind us. At the next stop, where they scan your suitcase, we had to turn in a piece of documentation we had filled out on the plane. A couple questions we were unsure of, so we had left blank. The nice x-ray technician pointed to the questions. We apologized and made questioning gestures. He reached to the stack of papers from other travelers and just let us copy their answers. Hope they passed the test, because otherwise, we all failed!

Finally, a few minutes before 6, we made it to the airport lobby. Before we could leave, we had to get Bolivian currency. Do know that we had tried at our local banks in the states as well as at the airport in Lima, but had been unsuccessful. So, before we caught a cab, we needed money to pay him with.

We found the ATM, or perhaps I should say ATM room as it looked more like a game room with lots of tall shiny machines. We tried several, but for whatever reason were unsuccessful. It was almost like gambling machines, as we hoped to find one that would spit out money! On the sixth try, I was able to get 1400 Bolivianos (about $220) in my hand, and we were finally ready to leave!

After our last attempt for a cab at an airport, we were reluctant and didn’t want to get cheated. So, we found free internet and called an Uber. Our driver was lovely and we paid him $12 to drive us the twenty miles downhill from the El Alto airport into the city of La Paz. 

We had booked the previous night at our hotel so that we could check in upon arrival, and warned them of our late/early arrival. When our driver dropped us off, the street was dark and abandoned and the door to our hotel was locked. I rang the bell, and a small window on the large wooden door soon opened. A half-asleep man looked at us and with a beautiful accent said, “Rebecca”? I couldn’t have been more grateful at that moment. He quickly checked us in to a perfect little room and at 6:30 am, after a day with over 32,000 steps, we took sleeping pills and climbed into bed.

Now, I must say, that through all of the traveling difficulties, every Bolivian we met was gracious, kind and overwhelmingly welcoming. So, after a few hours sleep, we were excited to explore a brand new country!

Food in Lima

Jess and I only had about 48 hours in Lima. There was not a ton on our list of things that we had to do (aside from the cat park of course). So, today, when we were debating how to get to the other side of the city to see the last couple things on our list, we opted for the journey by foot so that we could sight see along the way. It was well worth the ache that our feet later felt!

We walked from our district of Miraflores to the historic city center. It is truly amazing how well they use every inch of space in this city. Buildings, or at least the fences and outer border of homes, are on the sidewalk with no room to spare. Parking is an absolute premium, and apartment buildings have made efficient use of space where cars squeeze into tight spots creatively configured on the ground floor. 

But the city, despite being a desert has made incredible efforts to provide the people with lovely parks scattered about. Our five mile trek took us through varying neighborhoods where wealth was obvious or lacking, but everywhere we went, I was incredibly impressed with the cleanliness of the city. Despite being a large, crowded metropolis, you’d be hard pressed to find a piece of trash on the ground or even evidence of the many four-legged residents. It is obvious that the people of Lima love their city and want it to remain clean. We also learned later that during COVID, the government hired a lot of street sweepers. Unfortunately, they have not been paid in months. However, they are still working. Why? Well, there is apparently a sort of loophole in their contract that states if they quit working, they do not have to be paid. So, they alternate between protesting and working.

We also noticed many long lines of people along the way. Like any line we see, we wondered…”What are they waiting for? Should we join them?” But most were at banks and as we assumed they were not giving out free money, we decided not to join them. We later learned that this is still really an affect of COVID. Not as many people are allowed in the bank at one time and not as many tellers are working at any given time. Also, there was a recent change in how the elderly received their retirement, so that contributed to the long wait.

Along our journey, we also spent much of our time trying to decipher a new language. No, it was not the language with the lovely rolling Rs we heard around us, but the communication between cars. Honking is an absolute constant in Lima. Although, much of it does not appear to be out of anger and frustration, but more “I’m turning here” or “hey” or “I’m over here.” It is still a foreign language to me, but the cars (or perhaps their drivers) seem to understand perfectly.

Our destination for the long trek was the main square of Lima, Plaza de Armas. When we neared the plaza from one road, there was a small, peaceful protest, so we turned and tried other roads leading into the plaza. But at each one, there were metal gates and police officers. Yet, inside, there seemed to be people walking about as if all was normal. We were utterly confused, but desperately wanted to be in the inner circle. I mustered my courage and let my touristness shine and asked a police officer if we could enter. He let us in without hesitation. Most of the people mulling about were not dazed by the helicopters nor the large police presence. We learned later that this is an everyday occurrence. The presidential palace (like the White House) is on this square, and well, not everyone likes the current president, so they monitor who can get close. Since I seem to scream “tourist” even when I try my best to fit in, they didn’t question letting us in.

We wandered in colorful shops and tasted different chocolate treats before going into the Cathedral. The Cathedral, apparently was the first in South America, and it was truly stunning. The size of it was overwhelming, and ornately decorated altars lined the sides. In some places, the layer below the floor was exposed, showing discovered tombs. In the back of the church, a crypt was open. We ducked under the exposed bricks to find open tombs, some with skeletons still in them. At the back of crypt, we ducked under another brick overhang and were on a small platform in a tight room that looked over a circular pit about thirty feet deep. It wasn’t until we saw something move that we realized dozens of bats were clinging to the ceiling all around us. Suffice it to say, we did not stay terribly long in the tiny room.

For our final evening in Lima, we had signed up for a street food tour. These have been one of our favorite things to do in foreign countries. You get to interact with a local, learn about the culture, try foods you may not have eaten on your own, and meet fellow travelers. Johana was an amazing guide who went above and beyond to make us feel welcomed and keep us informed. We were joined by three women from Tennessee and a couple from Ohio. It was the perfect sized group with the right about of energy and enthusiasm. 

Our first stop was coffee. If you know me, this is not my cup of tea😉, but I did try it. Coffee has been here for a long time, but most people had paid attention to the berries, not the beans that were to be roasted. So, drinking coffee is still a fairly new idea in Peru.  While organic coffee is one of their largest exports, Peruvians are still learning about how to drink coffee, so most don’t add cream and sugar, but love the Starbucks you find on every corner.

Our food tour did not disappoint! The Humitas, a cornbread, similar to what you find in tamales, was delightful, especially with the added bits of cheese. The chicharron was delicious and reminiscent of a classic BBQ sandwich. Pork belly with slices of roasted sweet potatoes? Southerners, why haven’t we thought of this yet? And a churro that was heavenly. Not only was it warm, but it was filled with rich caramel. Plus a second desert, looking more like a donut but tasting more like a funnel cake made with naturally sweet fruits and root vegetables then deep fried and drizzled with fig syrup.

Johana took us to the market where you could get anything your heart desires. There was fruit of every taste and variety (we tried dragon fruit, passion fruit and lucuma which oddly was reminiscent of pumpkin). There were fish, whole and cut up. There were drink stands where we enjoyed ponche de maca, similar to a frothy milkshake. Maca is a root that we should apparently all be eating as it is a natural energy enhancer, plus reduces blood pressure and improves mood, not to mention helps reduces the effects of menopause. 

There are a lot of “Chifa” restaurants in town, a favorite of Peruvians. African slavery was outlawed in the early 1800s. The farmers were so accustomed to the way of life of having workers that they brought over indentured servants from China. These men, and their descendants became an important aspect of Lima. So, China town was a natural stop on our tour where we enjoyed delightful dumplings. 

Johana told us about our next stop, and said we certainly did not have to try it, but we all joined in. Former slaves and many living in poverty in Peru had grown up eating whatever they could find. This of course meant the cuts of meat that not everyone else wanted. It is now more common to eat a variety of organs, and so we joined in on the adventure and tried beef heart. It was a little chewier than steak, but the flavor was phenomenal, a grilled perfection.

Potatoes are a staple here. One dish we had was causa. Made with yellow potatoes until they are a consistency near mashed potatoes, just a bit more “moldable”. Then, the potatoes are used almost like the bread of a sandwich to put things inside. Ours had some sort of vegetable salad in the middle!

The food tour was an absolute joy! After which, bellies stuffed to capacity, we made our way to the airport for a late night adventure to Bolivia! More on that to come!

Lima

Lima is the capital city of Peru and home to 11 million people. You wouldn’t know it from all of the beautiful flowers and green parks, but Lima is a desert, getting only nine millimeters of rain a year. (That’s about the width of your index finger!)

Our time in Lima is short, so we made the most of our day and let our feet show us around. Where was our first destination? Well, if you know either of us well, you’d easily be able to guess. Kennedy Park is a lovely park in central Miraflores (one of the distracts of Lima). Flowers are in full bloom despite it being autumn. But it wasn’t the blossoms that brought us here. It was the cats. No one seems to know why, but the park has become a haven for homeless cats. They are fed, healthy and cared for in their little kingdom, and these cat lovers loved spotting them amongst the flowers.

Our wandering took us to the Pacific Ocean and the walkway at the top of the cliff that overlooks the high waves below. The city has done a great job of embracing the beauty of the view with a mall, parks and sidewalks along the way, including the Park of Love, which supposedly started after a local writer mentioned how many statues there were for war, while there are none for love.

A local artist made this statue, “The Kiss.” It is designed after himself and his true love (his fourth wife).

We ate lunch at a fishmonger, ordering the dish we’ve heard as the must while we are here, ceviche, and well, it did not disappoint.

In the afternoon, we took a tour around several districts including Miraflores, San Isidro, and Barranco. As usual, I enjoyed learning the history and interesting facts along the way, but my favorite thing about talking to strangers is hearing the ins and outs of living in a different place. Lucas told us about the upcoming mayoral elections. He said voting here is mandatory, and you are fined if you do not participate. He also said that there are eighteen different political parties, but there is so much corruption, that few people truly trust the government. 

As teachers, we asked about the schools. Most elementary kids go to school in the morning, and then the school transforms to a secondary school in the afternoons. There are public schools and private ones at a variety of costs. The teacher’s union of public schools is strong, and so public schools are often closed for protests. School runs from March to December. This March was the first time they opened in person schools since the start of the pandemic.

Lucas also told us a lot about the ocean, as it is a central provider for livelihood and food in the area. While the summers are hot here, the water never warms because a strong current moves along the continent and helps to irrigate the ocean. The cold temperatures mean there is more oxygen in the water which means there is more growing in the water which feeds the small fish, which in turn feeds the big fish.

Our tour took us by a huge pyramid around two thousand years old, that for years was just believed to be a hill in the city. They are excavating it and are amazed at the construction they are finding which has withstood centuries of earthquakes.

San Isidro is a lovely part of town with a huge park full of olive trees. In 1625, two hundred olive trees were shipped from Europe, but only three survived. From those three, over sixteen hundred olive trees now flourish in this area. They are harvested in May and June. Last year’s harvest produced over five tons of olives! After being processed, local residents receive small bottles of olive oil and pickled olives from the collection.

Our last stop was the artsy district of Barranco. It felt more Bohemian, full of romance, talent and appreciation of art. Murals filled open walls and the historic church, which failed two rebuildings, is now overrun with vultures. (I realize this is more spooky than romantic, but somehow it, too, was fitting.)

Look for the lines of vultures across the top!




She is made of cardboard!

Delicious food, stunning views of the Pacific Ocean, cats and tours of a new city? Who could ask for a better first day?