The dark helmet visors were masking the grins I knew we were both wearing. Fast smooth turns one after another kept coming and coming. By mid-day we’d made good progress and even the traffic had been light.

La Paz had to be close; the traffic had been steadily growing heavier and more manic. We were now riding the three lane highway that ran along the top of the mountain side that edged in the North side of this sprawling metropolis. We’d paid the small fee at the peaje and had pulled over on the left to get our first real look at one of the worlds most famous cities.

The same thought that was running through my head was clearly spinning through Lisa’s…’how the hell did they build this’? A vast collage of shining skyscrapers that were now catching the low afternoon Sun and ramshackle tin and brick homes. Every conceivable piece of land had been used; a city that presumably had once started in the centre of this long shallow valley had grown out of control, unchecked. By some miracle thousands of buildings and homes now lined the steepest parts of the cliffside each one taking a precarious grasp of some piece of earth. To live here you better make dam sure you don’t have vertigo.

We took a deep breath and joined the speedway madness that was racing its way down the dual-carriageway and into the heart of La Paz. We were going to need eyes in the back of our heads; half of these idiots were just desperate to be organ donors. Overloaded buses with aged abused suspension lent over at alarming angles as gravity, speed and centrifugal force took hold on bends they’d taken a thousand times.

The bottle neck we’d expected towards the bottom was filtering out faster than we’d dared to presume. We’d not taken a real breath since we’d joined the downward traffic from the peage.

We’d unwittingly pulled over in one of La Paz’s largest Plaza’s the ‘Iglesia de san Francisco’. Reaching back to Lisa’s rear bag I’d pulled out the Lonely Planet and thumbed the pages to ‘La Paz…places to sleep’. The Hotel Espania seemed like a good bet and If my directions were right we were only 4 blocks away. It was time to stop and the sooner the better, today had taken a fair bit of concentration.

With secure parking around the back Hotel Espania didn’t disappoint. Clean room with a decent shower.

We’ll explore more tomorrow, right now were just buzzing with the idea that we’re actually here…La Paz; somehow it just doesn’t seem real. OK, how high is La Paz? 3,660 metres. In the distance we can see the peaks of Illimani at 6,402 metres. What a day!

Back over at the plaza we walked around the dozens of small stalls each with a variety of goods sprawling onto the streets. The highlight of our morning was the proving of a simple ‘myth we’d heard long ago, the one about Bolivian women and why they wear lots of petticoats. To see them in action was…friggin rank!

The old lady who’d pulled every pained expression known to man whilst talking with us was getting…er…fidgety. Mid sentence she hobbled back from her stall l3-4 steps, steadied herself on her ancient pins, gathered a few of her petticoats and slowly and uncomfortably squatted on her haunches as passing pedestrians eased around her. Still squatting she once again struck up our conversation explaining as to why we’d be crazy not to buy at least several pieces of her jewellery. No way!!! The Orange trickle of fresh urine was now slowly making its way out from under her dozen or so skirts and was now out in the open and heading downhill. The old girl didn’t miss a beat. ‘Hell-no’. Any chance she had of selling to us had just disappeared, a bit like her water works which were still flowing. “Bloody hell, she must have a 20 litre bladder, what does she do store it up for weeks at an end” I thought, trying not to laugh out loud. We had to walk away we were on the edge of bursting out laughing. In case your wondering…we’d heard that the women wipe themselves with an underneath petticoat and then wip it off and place it to dry on the top. We didn’t hang around to see if the last piece of the ritual was true. Mmm…nice?

We were heading up the impossibly steep hills behind the cathedral and up into ‘Gringo alley’ and the black market, otherwise known as the witches market. If colourful potions and other bizarre regalia are your thing, here’s the place. Thousands of brightly coloured concoctions lay on dusty shelf’s and my favourite, the hundreds of dried shrivelled llama foetuses, guaranteed to kill you or cure you or just make you feel a bit ‘Uuuuurrrhhhhh’??? Bad hair day or lurking evil malevolent spirits, whatever your issue, roll up, roll up get your ‘one-cure for all’ dried llama foetus here. No thanks.

By late afternoon it was all getting a bit much. Our unfit lungs were panting as we walked the steep alleyways. Disappointingly we’d also just had enough of the ‘La Pazians’. Yeah, I know it’s bad to generalise but on the whole we’ve found Bolivians and especially those in La Paz to be dam right rude. OK, sure you can get pissed off with all the tourists, probably asking the same daft questions, but if you want their income then to a point you put on a smile, bear down and take it. I would ask in Spanish for ‘kind permission to take a small photo of someone’s stall or their goods, all I‘d get is a grunt and a dismissive waive of a hand, which would often accompany a sneer. Ah, well sod you then. I wasn’t even trying to photograph people; I’d given that up as a bad idea weeks ago. The feeling we were left with was ‘sure we want all your money and your business but we’d rather not actually have you here so piss off’. It’s a shame because Bolivia is stunning.

For good or for bad La Paz had left a noticeable mark and we’d recommend a visit to anyone. It’s one of a kind and the first view alone of this sprawling metropolis is worth the journey.

It’s time to leave.

On the other side getting our bikes off was proving to be more difficult. The heavy bikes were cumbersome to reverse out and we had no chance of turning them as the wooden decking we needed to use had given up years ago. The effort was making us smile.

Back on dry land we checked the bikes over and set off up the steep hill that would wind its way to the top of the cliff and makes its way right down into the town of Copacabana. The huge lake and its blue waters already had us mesmerized. Lisa would comment over the Autocom…’Simon, we’re riding along lake Titicaca’, in the hope that saying it out loud would somehow help the fact sink in. It wasn’t working. La Paz yesterday and Lake Titicaca today was just a bit too much to absorb. We were loving it.

Our fast progress of this morning had slowed, we were just too busy rubber necking the lake. By late afternoon the orange soft light of the afternoon was changing the scenery. The horizon was a little less sharp and the bright blue water from this morning was taking on a heavier darker hue.

Copacabana came into view and the famous white cathedral in the centre was an easily spottable landmark. We rode into town and carefully picked our way down the narrow cobbled streets, all the way down to the waterfront.

Even late in the afternoon the heat in the air was making walking about in bike kit hot work. The first small hotel had confirmed they had a room available, I’d confirmed and agreed the price and gone to get Lisa and the bikes. On my return some 3 minutes later, I was waived away with a dismissive hand gesture; the manager had given the room to 4 Swedish back-packers. I was not a happy bunny.

The larger Vista hotel next door would get our money instead. Yeah, these guys loved their jobs…not. OK, so we’re tired and probably being a little harsher than normal but still... It took me 20 minutes + just for me to get one of them to get up, find a key and open the gates that led to the land that edged the hotel and to where I’d been told I could park the bikes. We’re not sure if the hotel is very old and being refurbished or new and half finished. You get the idea.

With the bikes finally secured and our heavy bags in the room it was time to eat, we’d both left it too long. Finding a row of small wooden stalls and a couple of metal containers that had been turned into kitchens at the waters edge we found our place amongst one of the small shacks. The warped old one with white plastic chairs felt good enough and the family to our right looked like they were enjoying their meal. There was no menu, great I didn’t have the energy to make any choice anyway. The old lady cooking looked like she went to school with God. On the 3rd attempt to place our order she got the idea. Pescado fried sounded great. So there we were tired and feeling great, eating simply cooked fresh fish covered in fresh lime with a few token chips thrown in for good measure. It tasted like heaven.

As we ate, the busy going-on’s to our left had caught our attention. Dozens of vehicles from trucks to beaten up old family cars all brightly decorated and decked out in fresh bright flowers. This was the Benediciones de Movilidades – known locally as ‘cha’lla’, the blessing of automobiles. We heard about it but hadn’t expected to see it. A great way to end a day. Mmm, I wonder if they’ll do bikes?

Off the boat and we were left to our own devices. We were being picked up at 3:30 pm at the other end of the island that was 12 miles away. We’d shunned the idea of an expensive guide as the path looked obvious enough. Out of the small port we’d followed the narrow walkway around and up the crest of the large hillside we’d seen from the water.

The attendant had made it quite clear that if we wanted to pass and see the ‘Sun ruins’ and the ‘Birth place of the Sun and Moon’ there was no getting out of the required fee. Ok, yeah it was nice but that was really about it. I know that’s sounds terribly unappreciative but not everything you see here can be jaw- dropingly inspiring. The ruins were unkempt, low and looked like you’d expect old rock stacked in a pile to look like and the birth place of the Sun and Moon was a curved shape in what was an otherwise unremarkable piece of rock.

By 3:20 pm we’d route marched through the heat of the day and had managed to find the right boat back.

A nice day but not something we’d heartily recommend and not something you’re going to miss out on if your itinerary doesn’t allow for.