It was all over before it began. One minute I'm talking to a chola who wants me to have a full lunch outside the airport in Sucre and the next I am panting from the walk to the baggage claim in La Paz.

In the morning I caught a cab to the airport, saying goodbye to the White City and, I thought, the warmth as well. I checked in at the Aerosur desk of what is probably the most informal and least checked airport in the world.

They had old fashioned scales to weigh my bag (still just under 18 kilos, but then I had all my souvenirs separately) and you could run in and out as you pleased.

I was early so I set myself outside with my book about the gauchos which I bought in Ushuaia. I had to ward off
1 shoeshine boy
1 newspaper boy
1 lady selling a meat and potato dish

The latter was nice, she actually came and sat next to me to talk to me, obviously having a slow day.

Apparently, high altitude does strange things to planes. They need a much longer runway (because of less friction with the air) and special tires to be able to take off and land. I did notice that we were already so near the clouds, we barely had to go any higher as soon as we set off.

The mountains moved underneath us in colours of yellow, red and green. And suddenly we saw houses and roads and that was it... Must be the shortest flight I've ever been on. I did feel that La Paz is a lot higher than Sucre, I had to sit down a bit before I could put my bag on my back and find a taxi.

The taxidriver wasn't all that friendly, although I did enjoy the way he shouted 'Ay Caramba' at being sandwiched by two minibuses. I just booked in at a cheapy, because I was going to look for something a bit nicer to spend my Christmas.

The receptionist was very nice, apologising profusely that it took his colleague so long to show me to my room, but then it was lunchtime, and I said understandingly that the almuerzo is a very important meal and he smiled sheepishly.

In the room, right on the busy street of Illampu, I had the choice between stale air or very loud cumbia from a cd stall underneath... the horror! I escaped to have some food, at 100% natural, on a very steep street.

La Paz is hectic, lively, bustling and filled with people selling, buying, begging. It's the only place so far where I've seen Bolivian business women in short skirts and heels.

It's also strange to realise that yesterday Keiron was walking these streets, he will be in Potosi right now... seems like we just missed each other. From this point, he will be seeing things I have seen before and vice versa, which is an odd feeling, if not unpleasant. I am really looking forward to seeing him again, though it will be strange at first.

I booked a somewhat nicer hotel, with a patio and nice rooms and will be moving there tomorrow, so I will not have to bear the cumbia music for too long...

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