Bolivia, La Paz and reunion.

I arrived in La Paz at 7:30, drank a shed load of water on the flight to minimise the effects of altitude sickness following wise words from Indiana Watson. I had a feeling it was going to hit me bad because of flying from sea level to La Paz 4600m, with no time to acclimatize. No dizzy spells or immediate vomiting on leaving the aircraft so high hopes so far. Through customs with no hassle what so ever, immigration officer was a complete gentleman, bienvenida Bolivia, I give you a month visa ok, excellent muchos gracias senor.
Baggage claim carrousel numero uno, dum de dum de dum, I was pretty late on the flight so expected my bag out first. People waiting 80, 60, 50 , 40, mmmm, ant time now bags going to pop up, 30, 20 come on bag don’t let me down now, 15, 10 5, agh shite this doesn’t look good. 4, 3, no more bags popping out. A wee look down the belt tunnel, oh right the belts stopped. Shergar McShazbat!! Was really only a matter of time. So on speaking to American Airlines rep it turns out my bags are still in Miami, great they shall serve me well there. Ok, well, onto second customs now where you have to press a button that measures your pulse, if your pulse is high then the alarm goes off, fair enough. This of course pretty much means any gringo arriving at altitude, needless to say that and losing my bags my pulse sent the alarm off. The officer gave me a smile and motioned to go through, I think he realised I was a wee bit miffed about the bags and took pity on me. Fine chappy, gracias.
Through the gates and I spy a Bolivian taxi driver holding a placard saying “Fit like min Fiddes!” very odd, wow they speak Doric in La Paz amazing. Wahae! Kirk appears with bullwhip and Indy hat, Fit like en. Great to see a familiar face especially one that has been hanging with penguins in the Antarctic for 2.5 years and of course that I have no bloody idea where I was going from here. It was a relief to see that Kirk had not developed any serious signs of hibernation sickness in the S.P, I soon got used to the involuntary twitches and dawdling speech impediment. “Wahae! North East boys we are here, dum de dad a dum de da! And so on. Funny really within a few minutes it was as if we had seen each other last week.
Altitude sickness zero, Fiddes uno.
Kirk had us booked into a fine hostel in the centre of La Paz which was great but of course it was a bit steep for us Aberdonians, approximately £1.83 a night, for goodness sake eh! Agh well I suppose I can fork that out for 2 nights. Checked in then onto a restaurant at the top of a big tower block looking over La Paz, amazing view. Bueno Panorama. Again was pretty steep at £2.00 each including beers.
More water, alto sickness zero Fiddes dos!
Kirk had somehow heard about another youth hostel opening night, oh aye and it was St Patricks day after all so why not, I wasn’t tired and had been a long time since catching up with many stories to share.
How is this for a good idea the hostel was owned by 3 Irish guys and 1 Israeli, they all jointly own 1 in La Paz, 1 in Cusco and 1 in Lima. They take turns in running the 3 and usually one of them gets to travel about. Brilliant. Place in La Paz although still a building site was amazing, Spanish Colonial building with huge atrium and incredible cornicing, oak woodwork etc. What potential.
Harry Fiddes and son do South America, what do you reckon Dad? “Papa Fiddes es hijo, construccion, disenor et urbanizacion” I believe it has a certain ring to it.
Bag turns up after 2 days, just in time to move into Families house with fresh clothes,phew!
Still no signs of altitude sickness, 3 nil.

Me, Rene (Bolivian padre & Cicillia elles nino)













Kirks Bolivian family and American Nancy who also stayed there. Nancy was one of the daftest folk I have ever met, the family were lovely.











The following 2 weeks in La Paz were incredible. My Bolivian family that I stayed with Rene, Miriam and there 3 year old chica Ciccillia were so warm and of course patient with my pigeon Spanish. On arrival they made me feel so welcome in their traditional colonial house situated close to the infamous San Pedro prison (where with a little balls and ingenuity it is possible to get a guided tour of the prison by an inmate). Rene and Miriam’s house gave me my own private room with desk, couch, TV and all the mod cons. Use of the shower was precarious at times as it did share some similarities to M.Latif electrical wiring, big lever to pull with wet hands giving off a few sparks on entering and leaving the shower, ok then, I shall wear rubber veruca socks from now on.
Cicillia took great pleasure in taking the piss out of my rubbish Spanish over the 2 week stay, however I managed to impress her one day with my doodling skills over a game of magma doodle using pens & crayons. In fact the taunting became too much and I became very competitive in that game snatching crayons, spitting the dummy out and alike.
Every day I would get up at 7 and have a hearty breakfast with the family before going to school with my pack lunch. William was my Spanish teacher where I would get 3 hours private tuition then the last hour with Kirk. William was an excellent tutor albeit a bit of a stickler on the grammar. Before I came Kirk had paid for his lessons upfront and William had come in the next day pished as a fart, I made sure not to make the same error.
Most of the week days really were taken up with studying with cultural visits in the afternoon and early evening, ok a couple of jars were of course had some nights. La Paz was a really bussling city with incredibly helpful, honest and friendly people. I think tourism is still catching up in Bolivia and that for me somehow really adds to the appeal, the hassle factor from folk really was non existant, if the locals were chatting with you it was generally out of interest and not to scam or sell you something.
The altitude really does make a huge difference to you there, I made the mistake of playing football with Kirk and a bunch of Bolivians after only being there 3 days, My goodness me I thought a lung was going to fall out. Even the shortest flight of steps and you’ll be gasping for breath, makes you appreciate how fit these folk must be. Wait untill you hear about the porters on the Inca Trail though, they are strong fit folk I tell ye.


En route to school from my home.