Escape to Coroico!

After 58 days in La Paz, it’s finally time to leave! We cannot afford to wait around for the Irish and the Bolivian postal services to get their act together and deliver my new ATM card, so we’re jumping ship and going on our merry way again.

But the last few weeks weren’t without any adventure. Of course there was the usual Wild Rover madness, but Kev and I also managed to disappear to Coroico for a few days, to make ourselves feel like we weren’t completely wasting our time here. Coroico is the end-point of the hair-raising Death Road bike ride and is a world away from the chilly altiplano climate of La Paz. Only 2.5 – 3 hours away, it’s a small town perched within a tropical forest-covered valley called The Yungas. Most importantly it had the one thing we’ve yearned for most since our time here: HEAT!! It has a warm, spring-like climate all year round and it’s at much lower altitude that the city. Like little excited school kids going on a school tour, we set of on our mini vacation, being transported to Coroico in a people carrier, wedged between a grumpy teenager and a traditionally-clad woman with a baby in her blanket. The 3-hour drive there was spectacular in itself; along the main road which forms the first part of the Death Road cycle. The road winds initially through sparse high-altitude mountains which look remarkably like the tree-less expanse of Connemara. Next, as we descended we were driving past huge black rocky Andean peaks, dusted with a constant layer of snow – simply breath-taking. Funnily enough, as the journey went on and as we reached lower altitude, the heat gradually hit us; windows were opened and jumpers came off. The scenery was changing immensely too; the mountains remained, yet instead of snow, there was a thick blanket of tropical vegetation including banana trees, coffee plants and palm trees.  The bus left us in the small town square and we got a taxi up the steep hill to our abode for the few days, Sol Y Luna.

Sol Y Luna markets itself on being an “Eco lodge”, providing an Earth-friendly place to stay with hostel rooms, camping facilities and private cabins or cottages. Kev and I went for a little cottage called Nectar, with adobe walls, a small kitchenette and a balcony with a beautiful view. It looked very much like an old Irish shebeen if you will and we absolutely fell in love with it. Our balcony provided us with an uninterrupted vista of tropical forest in the foreground fading into mountain peaks in the distance, with wispy, misty clouds rolling in over the tops and up from the bottom of the valley floor below. We sat in our deckchairs on the balcony for hours, just watching nature perform in front of us, making it seem like we were sitting in a zoo enclosure. Everywhere we looked there were birds with yellow tails twittering away, eagles soaring and stalking their prey, hummingbirds zipping around beautiful bright pink hibiscus flowers and hundreds of butterflies flitting around, displaying their vivid colours with every flap of their wings. But because God has a mischievous streak, he also tainted this wonderful scene with the scourge that is Sand Flies. Sand fly bites are equally as unnoticeable until you notice a little spot of blood on your leg, and 20 minutes later it’s a red lump, some of which are just downright painful. No amount of insect repellent could deter them though and after a while it looked like I had a bad case of chicken pox. Thankfully though, they don’t spread disease, they’re just irritating enough by their mere presence. Our little cabin also had its own shower and toilet, both of which were located outside in another little hut. Luckily there were no spiders to interfere with my “connection with nature” and there was something very satisfying about having a hot shower while watching the sun disappear behind the mountains.

Coroico Valley

our little cabin

Beautiful flora and fauna

We spent the days lounging around the small, very cold pool and taking in the rays and our dose of Vitamin D. Coroico town was a 15 minute walk downhill, past some snappy dogs, but there was a beautiful viewpoint on the way, giving a panoramic view of the valley and the river meandering its way through the green peaks. Eagles could be spotted gliding their way over the valley as they searched for their next meal. In the town, we stocked up on fresh veg, fruit and pasta at the open market and a lady with 3 freshly-dead chickens cut off the entire breastplate of one poor thing for our dinner; 2 chicken breasts for €1, very cheap living and she threw in a lung for free. It felt great to finally cook for ourselves again and get away from the hamburgers and curry chips we were getting too used to in the Wild Rover. We relaxed on our deckchairs, admiring the sunset with beers in hand, swatting sand flies away and chatting about nothing in particular. We were glad to have ourselves to ourselves again, enjoying the peace, quiet and sounds of birds instead of the same soundtrack in the pub every night. Our neighbour from the nearby cabin invited us over for some beers and we sat outside their cabin in hammocks with him and his Argentinian girlfriend, practiced our dodgy Spanish as the local church bells signalled the arrival of 8pm. Their view was also breath-taking, a wide, open vista of the twinkling town lights below, with the bright moon casting an eerie glow on the tops of the trees. On our last night, we also met a German couple who we escorted from the town to the hostel and to repay the favour, they were so nice to cook for us. So again we enjoyed good company, some questionable beers, and some delicious food while discussing British 70s comedies, global warming and questioning how much of written history is actually accurate. We stumbled back to our cabin in the rain and snuggled in under our mosquito net-covered bed and drifted off to sleep to the sounds of heavy rain pounding off the corrugated iron roof.

View from the balcony

When the dreaded time came to leave, we decided we want a cottage in the country when we return to Ireland and I’m going to take up gardening. The drive home was an experience to say the least. Our driver insisted on cutting every corner, narrowly avoiding head-on collisions and taking bends with such speed that the tyres screeched. A few driving lessons wouldn’t go astray in this country! He could definitely give The Stig a run for his money. The scenery on the way back was noticeably different; the heavy rain obviously hit the altiplano too and what was a gentle frosting of snow the days previously was now a full-blown ski slope. The almost vertical mountains were striped with fresh waterfalls, varying in size from thin, wispy streams of water to impressive roaring torrents of water that threatened to spill over on to the road. We came across a fresh landslide, with a mini JCB just starting to clear the debris. We made it back to La Paz in record time, thanks to our Formula One driver and reluctantly made our way back to the hostel.

It was so refreshing to escape again for a bit of seclusion for a few days and enjoy being in each other’s company, without the stress of the bar. We feel ready to hit the road again and we have decided to head away to Sucre and continue on the road towards Chile. And it really couldn’t come sooner!!

Where we stayed: Hostel Sol Y Luna http://www.solyluna-bolivia.com/

  

How much?: 260 Bs (€26) per night for a private cabin with private bathroom and kitchen