We decided not to stay in Uyuni, instead booking the top-of-the-line bus ticket to La Paz, the highest capital in the world. It was a 12-hour bus ride and the first one we’ve ever been on that included a line on its ticket for compensation for lost luggage or medical care for an accident.

As we got on, we spotted a girl we had met the night before at the Salt Hotel. I can’t remember her name, but our first introduction to her was her saying, “I’m from Westchester, it’s about 30 minutes outside of New York City…” in one of the most condescending, I’m-better-than-you tones I’ve heard an American muster in the last few months.

“We know,” Lauren and I responded. “We live in Brooklyn.”

Westchester had worked in Colombia doing some kind of volunteer work and had insisted that we were missing the most beautiful country in the world by flying over it. Most of Colombia was safe, she insisted. But when we asked her if the road from Quito to Bogota was safe, she answered, “I don’t know. Things change everyday. You should ask locals…” and then proceeded to tell us a story about her bus getting highjacked.

Highjacking is not Lauren’s or my style, so we decided to pass.

Unfortunately for us, Westchester had now grabbed our Lonely Planet and was perusing the La Paz section, doling out nonstop suggestions of this-area-is-dangerous, this-area-is-safe, avoid-social-protests, don’t-wear-your-backpack and be-very-very-careful-with-your-stuff-in-the-bus-station. (I’ve grown weary of the bus station safety rants … what bus station is it safe to leave your stuff lying around in?)

She also told us how things were different for her, though, “because she speaks the language…. It makes a difference.”

Lauren and I were trying to listen intently, although we completely lost it when she told us about her need to eat granola (Musli!), thinking we were getting advice from someone who’d been-there, done-that in Bolivia. Then she pointed to another point on the map.

“This is where my apartment is,” she said, continuing on in another long spill of words that I couldn’t bring myself to follow.

“How long have you lived in La Paz,” I interrupted.

“One month,” she answered and continued on.

At this point, I couldn’t listen to her anymore and tried not to roll my eyes as she continued. Fortunately for us, the bus was leaving soon and her seat was a few in front of ours, and she settled in for the ride.

We arrive in La Paz an hour early the next morning, before the sun had risen. Marcus, the guy from Germany who was on our Bolivia trip, was still with us. The three of us grabbed our bags and camped out in the bus station for an hour (which oddly was no scarier than any other bus station in the world) before heading into the city to a hostel after the sun rose.

Lauren and I got checked into a room and went back to sleep for a couple of hours…. And we ended up not leaving the hostel until around 8pm that night. After the intense Bolivian safari, we were exhausted. We couldn’t even manage to bring ourselves to seek out lunch, instead eating an avocado we had brought all the way from Chile and some saltine crackers.

When we finally managed to leave, we went out in search of chocolate cake. It was Lauren’s father’s birthday, and as an annual tradition, Lauren eats Mississippi Mud Pie, Mr. B’s favorite cake. We doubted we’d find Mississippi Mud Pie so far from its home.

We ended up finding a cute café that could have been from any Collegetown, USA that had an assortment of cakes and an internet café downstairs. We ordered two steak sandwiches (which were amazing) and Lauren got three different chocolate cakes (which together probably equaled the amount of chocolate in one Mud Pie slice). The woman behind the counter thought Lauren was crazy to order that many cake slices. We managed to finish the sandwiches, but we couldn’t finish more than half the cakes.

The next morning we went out to enjoy the one full day we had in La Paz. Looking back, I think we both would have planned more time there. Despite being warned by many people that Bolivia would be roughing it, the city is completely set up to support a backpacker community. It had the most used-English-language-bookstores we’ve seen in South America, plenty of cute cafes, and a completely safe and walk-able center. And despite the warnings from Westchester, we were told by locals (in English… since we’re not fluent in the language) that it was completely safe to walk around with a backpack during the daytime. (The center is full of hundreds of Bolivian students who also wear backpacks all day long.)

We did take one of Westchester’s suggestions and signed up for a US$6 bus tour of the city, which gave us some important facts about Bolivia and encouraged us to “invest in (their) country.” For a complete set of quotables, check out the Bolivia quotes page.

The bus ride included a trip to yet another Valley of the Moon. It was similar to the Valley of the Moons we had seen before, but this one had huge stalagmites. We saw people wander across them, though one faulty step looked fatal. (Liability seems to have a completely different definition outside the U.S.)

Later, the bus took us to the top of a cliff where we could look over the entire city, which sprawls across and enormous valley. In the distance, there are snowcapped mountains that looked painted and surreal.

That night, we dined at the Hard Rock Café because there was a Hard Rock Café in Bolivia. We were sad to discover that they were sold out of Hard Rock Café Bolivia shirts, but we were excited that their prices are Bolivian, not U.S. It was the U.S. menu, and we enjoyed nachos, burgers and beer.

The next morning we had an early bus ride to Copacabana, a town on Lake Titicaca, the highest navigatible lake in the world. On the recommendation of Katia and Brendan from out Bolivia trip, we booked a room at La Cupula, a German-run hotel that overlooks the lake. When we arrived, we realized the $8/night room was well worth it. It was by far the cleanest hotel we’ve staying in so far in South America, with a private yard with hammocks, a restaurant, a TV room and an amazing view of the lake.

Lauren and I headed out looking for lunch. What we found was Lake Titicaca’s infamous trout, the largest trout in the world. We got it “especial” and split one between the two of us… more than enough food. (Lauren: I could go on and on about how amazing this trout was. But suffice it to say it was easily the best fish I’ve ever had.)

The next day, we laid around in the hammocks, reading and trying to catch up on blogging. At one point when Lauren had gone inside, four local girls were playing in the yard. It was all giggles and laughter for a while until they started screaming. One girl was frozen in place and the others were standing around her hysterical. At first I couldn’t figure out what was wrong and then one of the girls came up to me.

“Amiga, amiga!” she called. “Anaña! Anaña!”

This is a word I know mostly because of the heavy promotion of the movie Hombre Anaña (Spiderman). I went over and discovered that the girl did have a large, scary, hairy bug on her (I think it was a beetle, though, not a spider). I grabbed it off and threw it on the ground.

The girls thanked me and left, having had enough of nature I guessed. A few minutes later, the girl who had asked me for help came back with a bowl of ice cream. She proceeded to pull up a chair as close as possible to mine and propped her feet up on the same ledge I had mine propped on. Clearly, I had a new friend. But she didn’t speak English (or that much Spanish, I think) and I don’t speak that much Spanish (or any Quechua, the indigenous language). It took her a couple of hours to get bored with me.

That night, Lauren and I watched the sunset while sipping beers. Lauren has been really intent on trying the national beers in each country and this one made her “top 3.” (You can find photos of her trying all the beers in The Pics section.)

The rest of our time in Copacabana was not as fun, however, as Lauren started to get sick. Over the next four days, she’d get sicker and sicker, eating only rice and a few potatoes. We spent most of the time resting in the hotel (and Lauren spent a lot of time in the bathroom).

We said goodbye to Bolivia a few days later, heading to Cusco to see Machu Picchu.