Blog 10: A Spell in the Witches Market

20-22 November 2023

Arriving by plane in La Paz is not the most attractive entrance to the city. After flying over Lake Titicaca, the Bolivian landscape turns to dust as you descend into La Paz. It looked hot out there from the plane, although on the horizon I noticed a massive snow-clad volcano through the heat haze as we came in to land. You learn to accept the bizarre presence of snow in the most unlikely places in South America.

El Alto

The airport is in El Alto, a city 13 kilometer west of La Paz. El Alto is poor, it is extremely high, it is nothing but dust and dirty rundown shops in a massive and boring grid pattern. Its crime rate is apparently as high as its altitude. It's a great place to get out of quickly.

The Atix Hotel, a four-star modern hotel in La Paz's version of South Yarra, had sent a driver up to El Alto to collect me. We drove quickly through the flat ugly streets of El Alto and began to approach a kind of esplanade which was clearly on the rim of something. I could tell by the change in light that there was a massive drop on the other side and I wondered what was down there.

La Paz. That's what was down there. Swinging onto the Esplanade the entire city lay below me. It's in a kind of cauldron, or pit, about a thousand meters down from El Alto; the most extraordinary location for a city, why the hell would anyone build one here. Dry and dusty and surrounded on all sides by giant ridges of stone and sand, it's like a city built in a quarry. Within the 'quarry' itself there are ridges and hills; it is not level, and the city is carved into zones by the ridges. In the distance, at the Eastern end of the city rim, another soaring mountain, Mount Illimani, commands the horizon; a towering snow covered, glacier-clad eruption that reaches suddenly for the sky.

The Hotel Atix and its spectacular pool

La Paz is the highest capitol city in the world, and even after acclimatising in Peru, La Paz can take it out of you. The Hotel Atix was in Calacoto, a classy area in the lower elevations of town, but even it was 3000m above sea level, and the hotel freely provided oxygen ifyou needed it, either supplying a tank to take to your room or pumping it through the airconditioning into your room.

My room was the most sophisticated I had encountered on the trip so far, large, well appointed, with high ceilings and a magnificent view. But I gravitated to the pool on level 7 and the adjacent open air coffee bar with its benches overlooking the city. I figured I would spend at least one day, just lounging around here; I was on holidays after all.

The pool, the coffee bar on level 7 and two views from my room

So the next morning I got up early, went down to the breakfast room and ate, then changed into my bathers and headed upstairs to Level 7. Only to find the pool was closed for deck maintenance, and would be for two days.

I sulked. It was hot outside. I was tired from the Peru excursions. I'd booked this hotel largely for the pool. Damn. I couldn't even sit at the coffee bar, the whole level was closed.

I walked up the street to get a Bolivian sim card, and everything about that excursion was tedious and annoying, mostly because I had no Spanish, but also because the shop that only sold sim cards seemed to have no idea about what sim cards were or how much they were or what I needed to have mobile data coverage in Bolivia. I came home with a sim card that I purchased off the shelf and had to activate myself, translating about 20 steps from Spanish and dealing with all the time-outs while entering data into the online form. I became even grumpier.

I woke to this view from my room

The teleferico to town

Then I figured, well no point sitting around my room getting grumpy, I'd work out how to catch a teleferico (cable car) into the city. Around midday I set out. In about 10 minutes I was at the Green (Verde) Line teleferico station near my hotel, purchasing a ticket to who knows where or for who knows how long in pigeon Spanish from an attendant who didn't care.

You have to love a city that has cable cars as its main public transport system. La Paz has installed a vast network of cable cars over the past few decades, easing congestion in what is a bizarre and difficult (if spectacular) natural setting.

I'd had the sense to ask for a map at the ticket office, and even though it was in Spanish I figured I could work out which lines and which interchanges would get me to Plaza San Fancisco, which I remembered from someone's advice, was the centre of town. I hopped into my first cable car and had it to myself until at the last minute a lady joined me.

And Thank God she did. Her name was Rosario, she was Bolivian but could speak English, and she told me I had the wrong ticket to get to the city; I'd need to get off at the final terminus on the Green Line and catch a car on the blue line all the way into the CBD. She told me how much it would cost, checked my currency and helped me count out the money. But more than that, when we got to the green terminus, she got out and walked with me to the blue terminus, as it was a confusing labyrinth of elevated walkways. I got there, she helped me buy the ticket, then she left me to catch my blue line car and went back to resume her trip. That was definitely going above and beyond, if you'll excuse the pun. (Actually that pun's quite good.) I couldn't thank her enough. I was set for future trips now, as well, I only had to be shown once.

The Blue line

So then I caught a blue ('agua') line cable car that took me up a steep slope over several kilometers to the city centre. In this car I was joined by a middle aged Bolivian guy who cheerfully said 'Hola' as he got in. I said I had no Spanish and he said he had no English, but he had enough for us to have a chat. He was upset at the weather, specifically the heat and the smoke haze over La Paz. 'Amazonia', he said, a couple of times, confusing me until I realised he was telling me it was the fires in the Amazon causing the heat. I asked who is burning the Amazon? He said the Chinese are paying local farmers to burn it; they are after the copper and gold in the river deposits. He called them 'predatores'. He said everyone in La Paz is concerned and there are protests in the city about it. We passed a giant hoarding with an image of what I figured must be the Bolivian President on it. 'El Presidente?' I asked (in impressive Spanish)? Si, he said, with a dismissive hiss, rubbing his fingers together to indicate someone on the take. 'China', he said, while rubbing his fingers, leaving me to fill in the gaps.

Looking towards the CBD

La Paz Central

With the politics done, I got out and entered downtown La Paz for the first time. Actually 'up-town' would be more appropriate, as I'd been climbing up a deep chasm all the way on the blue line and the city centre straddles a steep slope. I entered the main thoroughfare, joining the hustle and bustle, and noticing initially lots of small bureaus offering photocopying services. There must be some regular certification required that means people, especially the bowler-hatted women of Bolivia, need to photocopy papers regularly. Maybe for work permits, or for Government payments? I never found out. Even in the sim card shop earlier there had been bowler hatted women queing to photocopy certificates. With no Spanish I couldn't unobtrusively read the titles.

I made my way uphill, past a statue of Simon Bolivar, the 19th century military leader who led modern Peru, Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Panama and Bolivia to independence (it's all detailed on his Linked In profile), past a pretty dramatic war memorial, past a garden sign saying I was in La Paz, to the Cathedral of San Francisco.

The Witches Market

Walking uphill in the narrow streets behind the cathedral, I entered the famous Witches Market. 'Tourist Market' would be a more appropriate name, as it turns out only a few shops in a specific section of the market sell the stuff witches need for their hexes and spells (like llama embroyos, more on that in a minute).

However, it was certainly colourful. The knitwear and the vendors dressed in it were every colour imaginable.

I came across a couple of witches at the entrance to the market, and they were clearly up to no good. I offered them 20 Bs for a smile, and they happily obliged, amused I think that they'd got some money for absolutely nothing:

Then I headed up the main Witches Market street. I was thirsty, so I saw a bar and grabbed an ale from what turned out to be an Australian proprietor, Alan, and his wife Jen. They gave me lunch as well, and told me how to get to the witchy part of the Witches Market.

Naturally, I ordered the Witches Brew (a beer). There was a lot of this token rubbish in the Witches Market, but hey.

So after my ale I headed up to the seriously witchy part. And yep, there was some truly wierd stuff going on up there, mostly to do with stillborn llamas. Glad it was a light lunch I'd eaten.

All in all, though the impression the market left on me was the crazy colours. It was worth seeing just for that:

Bolivia vs Uruguay

I made it back to the hotel, and discovered a mall of restaurants and cafes very close by. I chose a Mexican restaurant named 'Empanada Palace', selling 3 tacos and a 'Zombie' for just 10 Bs (that's almost 50cents AUD). After a day of witches, I figured I could take on a Zombie. It arrived like this (on fire)

On the flatscreens all through the bar, they were showing Uruguay playing Bolivia in an early World Cup qualifier. The most stirring moment for me was watching the Bolivian national anthem being played at the start of the game - in Bolivia! There were misty eyes at a couple of nearby tables. I texted Josh at home and he told me to watch out for the Uruguayan coach as everyone non-Uruguayan thinks he is 'loco'. (He brings his own esky to matches and sits on it for luck). When they cut to him and I saw him, I laughed out loud. The table next to me laughed too, it was a brief bonding moment.

However, pretty soon Uruguay were two goals up, so I didn't stick around to see the finish. After my day of witches and zombies, it was time for bed.