Where in the world can you travel two hours, drop 1500
meters, and go from a temperate climate to a tropical one? I’ll give you a
hint…it rhymes with solivia.
This last weekend we decided to get away after the
immigration insanity and take a bit of family time somewhere warm. We heard
that many Bolivians travel to a town called Coroico due to its amazing
temperatures, and proximity to La Paz so we decided to try it out. There are
two ways to reach this town. One is via the “most dangerous road on earth” (aka
Death Road) or by a newer highway. Many tourists opt for Death Road taking
“gravity assisted mountain biking” tours down a sketchy path with nothing but a
mountain on one side and a jagged precipice on the other. We chose the newer
highway. Although that was our choice, for a long time I wasn’t sure we hadn’t
somehow gotten on the wrong bus and ended up on Death Road.
For $5/person, we all piled into a station wagon style
vehicle (Amelia in my lap) and began our ascent to 4800 meters. I guess you
have to go up before you can go down. When we stopped for gas, all of the
passengers remained in the running vehicle
while the driver fueled up (my heart nearly stopped, but Duane assured me it’s
very difficult to light anything at that altitude). We passed plateaus full of
grazing llamas and alpacas and entered into some hostile looking mountains
where somehow people had settled. The bumpy road twisted continually making
visibility difficult, but that never seemed to deter the driver from passing.
We continued up until there was no more up to go, and came
to our favorite part of the road that travels along the spine of the
mountain…views on either side, and road as wide as there is space. And then we
began our descent into lush and humid tropical valleys. I was amazed at how
quickly the topography and climate changed.
Our driver opted for a bit of a short cut, and this is truly
where we experienced our own Death Road. He cut off the paved, single lane
highway onto a single gravel path…and when I say gravel I don’t mean what we
have in Canada…I mean gravel the size of a fist. We bounded down the
mountainside, passengers gripping their seats, everyone silent, steep cliffs
mere inches from our tires simply to shave off a few minutes of travel.
When we almost reached the base of the mountain, we started
our climb back up to the beautiful hamlet of Coroico, set at 1200m, surrounded
by green abundance. Our ‘resort’ was set outside of the town, perched on the
mountainside in an old coffee plantation turned Ecolodge. For only $50/night we
had an amazing cabin with breathtaking views, an outdoor kitchen and profound
silence. The temperature was on average 25-30C. We could walk around the
property where there were many coffee plants (that provide organic coffee for
all the guests), coca plants, banana palms, lime trees and tropical flowers. We
spent our days lying in hammocks, swimming in the pools, and exploring (as much
as one can with a toddler). When we got there Amelia said, “I love it here.
I’ll live here when I’m older”.
Our cabin |
The view from our porch |
Biggest fiddlehead fern I've ever seen |
COFFEE!!!!!! |
Air filled spiky balls |
These guys were everywhere |
Milly learning how to swim |
Our trip back was just as eventful. We drove through thick
clouds, with limited visibility all set to an eighties/early nineties music
montage that lasted for over an hour. On our descent back into La Paz I became
convinced that our minivan had mechanical difficulties/possible brake trouble
as our driver coasted down hills and had minimal, jerky use of his brakes.
Thankfully we made it back in one piece…only a little travel weary.
There’s nothing like some time away to make one thankful for
“home” no matter how small, uncomfortable, or different it may be. I think all
three of us felt this when we arrived at our apartment in Sopocachi, La Paz. We
have all started referring to this place differently and felt a sense of relief
when we experienced the familiarity of our neighborhood streets. I loved
Coroico, but I’m not sure how soon I’ll be ready to make that journey again.
Sounds like quite the adventure; and so beautiful ! Keep the posts coming. I love living vicariously thru your experiences. Livin' the dream!
ReplyDeleteDeb Brunet