Today, I did essentially nothing. And it was glorious.
It’s tempting to think that travel is always go-go-go. But on trips longer than a week or two, I think it’s important to take some time off occasionally, to rest, relax and have a breather. It’s my last chance for a day off before the fast pace of a tour sets in tomorrow, so I decided to take advantage.
Dreary, rainy weather
This morning, I intended to have a bit of a lie-in. But the paper-thin walls made that a bit difficult. Between the dogs barking, the construction crew on the next building hammering away, and the obnoxious French lady in the next room trying to facetime someone back home, my dreams of a lazy, luxurious sleep-in were whittled away. (Seriously, until you’ve been woken up by the sound of someone repeating “coucou! coucou!” twenty five times in a row, you haven’t lived.)
My bus to La Paz leaves tonight at 6pm, so I had some time to kill. My plans for today involved nothing more sophisticated than checking out, putting in a load of laundry with the hotel reception, grabbing a book, and curling up in the hammocks. Alas, I was a bit thwarted by the weather; it was chilly, dreary, and pouring rain when I got up. First real rainy day of my trip, so I can’t complain too much. And I suppose it’s karmic payback for all my smugness about the weather here, while you guys were getting flooded and snowed on back home.
There’s always an Irish pub cafe
But anyway, the laundry at the hotel relied on line drying, so that was a no-go in the rain. Onto Plan B, then. I had some breakfast, left my big bag at reception, and loaded my laundry into my daypack and headed into town. There, I dropped it off at one of the ubiquitous 3-hour laundry service places that dot tourist towns around the globe. And then, in grand backpacker tradition when there’s time to kill, I did what one always does and went to the Irish pub. Or, in this case since there’s no Irish pub, I went to the Irish cafe. It’s actually an Irish-Bolivian-Nepalese (yes, weird fusion) breakfast/brunch place run by an Irish guy. It’s known among the backpacker circuit for serving good vegetarian food in a relaxing atmosphere. They had WiFi. They had possibly the best coffee in Bolivia. I was all set.
Ponchos and souvenirs
I hung out there until the cafe closed at 1:30. By then, the rain had stopped and the clouds were clearing up, giving way to some sunshine. The weather changes fast at this altitude. So I wandered the town a bit.
First, I found the tiny poncho museum hidden away on a back street. It was a good way to kill twenty minutes, learning about the history of ponchos in Bolivia, the different designs and weaving techniques worn by different communities throughout history, the difference between festive and everyday ponchos… I mean, where else but Bolivia, right?
I was pretty much the only person in the tiny museum, and the owner’s kids collected my money at the end and wished me a pleasant journey. One thing I’ve noticed is that a lot of kids seem to be working here, helping out their parents in whatever the family business is. The ones I’ve seen did seem to be wearing school uniforms, if school-aged, so I guess they help before and after school. But even so, it’s a bit disconcerting to realize that so many children of no more than seven or eight are working here.
After the poncho museum, I browsed the ubiquitous souvenir and handicraft shops a bit. They sell all the same stuff as the ones in Peru. The prices here seem to start lower, but the shopkeepers are much less motivated to sell and seem to be far less willing to negotiate. I succumbed and bought another tuque — hey, we Canadians can never own too many tuques — and a poncho, because, again, where else but Bolivia? I realize I will likely never wear the poncho at home, since, really? But then, it was only like five bucks, so whatever. All fake “real” alpaca, of course.
Blog day afternoon
At around three, I picked up my laundry — all clean, folded and pressed — and hiked back up to the hotel. There, I repacked my bags, and then parked myself in the garden with a cup of tea and my laptop to blog a bit and enjoy the now-sunny weather. A Swiss couple who were just arriving from the Amazon jungle checked in and joined me, and offered me some of their bottle of wine, and we just took it super easy for a couple of hours. This vacation life, I tell ya. It’s really tough.
Shortly, I’ll be hopping in a taxi down to the port to catch my bus to La Paz. It’s been a lovely few days by the lake. While I’m sad to be leaving this peaceful serenity, I’m excited to begin the next leg of my trip.