Death Road and misc.

Yesterday we booked a bike tour on the Death Road, allegedly the world most dangerous road. This road used to be the main link between La Paz and Coroico and further to the Bolivian Amazon basin. A new safer road has been opened in 2009, so the Death Road is now mainly used by tourists. It stretches over more than thirty kilometres, carved on a flank of a steep mountain with the abyss on the side; unpaved and quite narrow, it rushes down at times vertiginously from an elevation of about 3’500 meters to 1’200 meters at the bottom end. The scenery is absolutely stunning. I wish I could have driven my old Toyota Landcruiser on it, this would have been fantastic. Because this road is so narrow, vehicles have to drive on the left hand side, so drivers have a better view of the abyss and their wheels when crossing another vehicle. There used to be a vehicle crashing down the abyss every fortnight on average when the road was in use. Good that there is a new road now. I cannot imagine how it can be during the rainy season with the mud and water falling from the mountain. 

So we started our tour at an elevation of 4’700 meters, the first 22 kilometres on a paved road so we could get acquainted with our mountain bikes. As I am not a mountain biker by nature, I was riding quite carefully and soon was trailing behind. There was quite some traffic on that curvy road, trucks and buses and I did not want to have a stupid accident. Then one of the “guides” told me I should ride faster because we had a long journey ahead of us. This, after having delivered an elaborate speech on how their agency was the safest in town with the best bikes in the world, going on and on on the allegedly lousy safety standards of their competitors. That was enough for me, so I handed over the bike, helmet and gloves and hopped into the accompanying bus. In a way, it was great, because I could fully enjoy the amazing scenery without having to keep my eyes constantly on the road. However, I do not get messed up with so easily, so I was deliberately obnoxious to the “guides” for the rest of the day. They call themselves “guides” but they are just a bunch of jerks. On the way back, two of them were drunk in the bus while the third was sleeping and the bus driver was talking on his cell phone while managing the curves. If they are really the best in town, I am wondering what others are like. Happy that we made it back safely. Next time, I will go on my own.

Today, we are resting in the campground deciding where we are going to go next. Roads can be challenging in Bolivia, so we need to plan carefully in order not to be stuck in the middle of nowhere. We heard from other travellers that it can be difficult to get gas in some places. We have actually seen long lines of vehicles at gas stations in La Paz. La Paz is an amazing city, nestled in a rift of the Altiplano at an elevation of 3’500 meters, built among geological formations. Contrary to what everyone thinks, it is NOT the capital of Bolivia. Sucre is, but only by name. With 850’000 inhabitants, La Paz is de facto capital, with all government institutions located here. It is dominated by the city of El Alto perched higher on the rift, a huge shantytown of more than a million people having migrated from the rural areas. Its architecture is nothing spectacular, but its amazing set up is definitely worth a visit.