Where are Brad and Karen?: La Paz: An Assault on the Senses (In a Good Way)

Again, another long post ... but the payoff is the photos at the bottom.

After leaving the paradise that is Isla del Sol, we ferried back to Copacabana and caught the early afternoon bus to La Paz, where we were overwhelmed by the noises (including firecrackers and bottle rockets), the Saturday crowds, traffic, diesel fumes, high-mountain heat, honking horns and paper-thin spaces between vehicles both large and small.

But first, a little about the bus ride. There was a delay of about 45 minutes where we had to get off the bus, take a ferry across a small channel, wait for the ferry to be barged over, then hop on again.

While waiting, a local band was blaring its music from the town square, while local women danced with what seemed like the entire Bolivian navy. This band could give The Boss to shame a run for his money: It never took a break the entire time we were there, belting out high-energy tunes in the blazing hot sun. A very enjoyable respite.

Then, on the outskirts of La Paz, it seemed the entire town was out for a festival and parade that seemed to stretch for three miles: bright, shiny local garb, lots of bands, traditional dancing, and plenty of traffic.

Just as we thought the traffic was so thick it could only be the big city of La Paz, we descended into a huge valley carpeted with brick and tile, plus several skyscrapers. At the bottom of the valley, after snaking through the narrow, crowded streets, we were let out a half-block from our hotel in the city center.

We quickly dropped our bags and set out for the teeming few blocks to the black magic market, where you can buy everything from llama fetuses to voodoo dolls. Pretty interesting stuff. And in case you're wondering, no, we did not buy anything.

La Paz is a great strolling city, as long as you have the lungs to handle the 12,000-foot altitude.

At 5:45 the next morning, we caught a taxi to the airport for the two-hour flight back to Lima, where we had a one-day layover before our red-eye back to Los Angeles.

We spent the day seeing the sights we didn't see on the first day of our journey.

What a blast. We joined a procession in honor of St. Francis Solano and watched the elaborate changing of the guard at the presidential palace that included mounted musician-soldiers in a highly choreagraphed presentation.

We ate at the famous El Cordano bar, where we had an amazing avocado stuffed with mashed potatoes and shrimp, and a plate of delicious calarmari. It was great to be on the ocean again for fresh seafood.

Then it was to the San Francisco church, famous for its catacombs lined with thousands of skeleton bones. Interesting -- yet macabre -- at the same time.

We ended our trip with taxi ride the Barranco neighborhood, where we ate some of the most delicious food we've ever had: a whitefish with an artichoke puree, paired with a wonderful tempranillo/malbec blend from Argentina.

And the lemon merangue pie was simply the best; its merangue was served on the side, and the filling was torched, cream brulee-style.

To top it off, we toasted the close of another wonderful trip with a glass of cava from Spain.

Here are some pix from the past couple days:

That's our bus being barged across a narrow channel at San Pablo, on Lake Titicaca. Not sure why they don't just build a bridge, but we were delighted by the music and dancing at the town square overlooking the lake.

Here's the band at the other side of the channel. It never took a break and was hard charging the entire time we were there ... almost as much energy as a Springsteen concert. Note the traditional women dancing with navy officers. Good times.

From the roof of our hotel in the highest capital in the world.

A typical street scene in La Paz. Note the overhead electrical lines; kiosk merchants simply tap into them. Surprising that we don't hear of more electrical mishaps.

The La Paz cathedral at dusk.

From our hotel roof; central La Paz is surrounded by the lights of the rest of the city.

Now we're back in Lima. This is just a small part of the elaborate and entertaining changing of the presidential palace guard.

Kind of eerie, we know. It's part of the catacombs under the San Francisco church. The bones are estimated to represent about 20,000 who died before the local cemetary was established.