Part Two: La Paz, Bolivia

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Images below are thumbnails. Click on them to see a larger version.

A surprise! Ananda, and our son Nitai, who had both been holidaying in Peru, were there to meet me at the airport. Their appearance at the airport was quite unexpected as I was planning to meet them in Lima in a month’s time. We hailed a taxi and commenced the picturesque drive down to La Paz.

But nothing could prepare me for the unforgettable view of the city. Towards the end of our descent, we rounded a bend, and there below us in a vast gaping canyon that was nearly 5km rim to rim, lay Bolivia’s biggest city – La Paz – population 1.5 million. Above us we now saw El Alto in a different light, clinging precariously to the canyon’s lip. And looming as a backdrop amidst crystal blue skies, the mighty snowy triple peak of Illimani commanded full view.

We met our hosts for the week – Mathuresh and his wife Roxana. Mathuresh is a businessman who has been my point of contact in arranging my visit to La Paz. Roxana looks after their two lovely children and cooks in the restaurant.

On the way to their home, we dined at the well-known Ganesh vegetarian restaurant at Calle 21 #8475, in the district of Calacoto. Roxana had cooked a delightful lunch consisting of local fresh choclo (juicy white corn, with succulent chunks of fried queso blanco (white cheese), and a few vegetable dishes made from local products.

I was introduced for the first time to the traditional Andean remedy for mild symptoms of altitude sickness mate de coca, a tea made from coca leaves that is widely available in Bolivia and Peru. After lunch we retired to the home of Mathuresh and Roxana, a palatial house on the outskirts of La Paz.

We discussed our busy schedule for the week to come, which included TV interviews, and five days of cookery classes at a downtown venue. In the evening we visited Centro d’estudios Vedicos (situated on one of the steepest residential streets I have ever seen) where Mathuresh showed me the poster advertising my current visit to Bolivia.

We enjoyed a few warm potato samosas, with crispy crust and warm spicy filling, and a glass or two of hot milk. We then drove back through the chilly, rarified mountain air to Mathuresh's home, and retired to what I hoped would be a pleasant night's rest. But there would be no sleep for Kurma that night.

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