There are 2 roads that link cold La Paz to the tropical pueblo of Coroico, a population of just 10% of La Paz. One is a old and the other new. We are taking the old, toll-free route. Our journey starts in the Northern part of La Paz, Villa Fatima. Villa Fatima is a market area and the few tour operators are housed near the old estacion gasolina. Each ticket is numbered but I’ve no idea of how to tell which is numero 11.
20 minutes into our journey we pass a cemetery, solitary mountain dogs and it seems that at 2km intervals crash barriers cushion the edge of the lunging precipices. HAY CHANCHO CON-ARROZ. It’s common for small outcrops of communities living here to operate cafes from their prefabricated tin shacks; and I see they have pork and rice, but there’s four hour journey ahead on this minibus journey and I don’t have the courage to chance battling with an upset tummy.
BUSCA A DIOS JESUS ESTA LLEGADO, DIOS TE AMA CRISTO VIVA appears scrawled along the roadside which is some kind of religious-themed graffiti and it covers the rock formations and I attempt to figure out what it means. We continue along a narrow mountainside road and there’s poor vision ahead through this unforgiving weather beaten environment. Also I spot out of the window some well-wishing markers bidding for a safe passage. Having ascended to such a high altitude now, I’m imagining that the ‘indiginas’ of this part of Bolivia really do perceive themselves as being pretty close to a godly presence. What’s more, mixed in with the graffiti are corporate logos including POLAROID, COCA COLA which form billboards out of the stoney surfaces.
The climate which begins as a regular grey day in La Paz shifts dramatically and we drive through a stretch of treacherously icey roads. And this is a covering of ice which looks like it’s the result of of a wild stream of cascading water which freezes rapidly on contact with the road’s surface. This along with the contraflows of blankets of clouds, common phenomenon at this altitude they fondly refer to it as neblina is surreal. Easing our way through the neblina we approach drug relate graffiti scrawls which at the control customs depots which read CONTROL ANTINARCOTICS / PARADA OBLIGATORIA. This is probably connected to one of Coroico’s main industries – there’s a stedfast economy based around cocoa cropping. So, the friendly looking customs depots  put face to to the potential Bolivia has to being a main producer of cocaine.
Wow, we hit a blueness of colour revealing a community of houses that share the ambient surroundings and cling to their harsh surrounding terrain. Now rain mixes the view of the flat plains of this ‘altiplano’, so called because of the high altitude. And the mountains have regressed to the far distance on one side and the ‘neblina’ rise up from the mountain sides valley crevices below. On the other side there appears an apparent flatness and we now pass a half-dozen roadside testimonials. I wonder if they’re graves of those who fell to their doom on this precarious old mountain road, or they’re simply virgin mascots offered to Christ.
Becoming more aware of the journey I start to feel the tingle of a dead leg and single buttock. I notice a sniffing and a dog appears form under my seat, a mother and son seem to have hit their destination, ‘VAMOS A BAJAR’ she hollers before they get off, but where to in this desolate landscape? A man boards carrying a heavy sack load of fresh bread-rolls which he plonks in the free seat beside me making my journey noticeably more uncomfortable. 35 VELOCIDAD, our vision through the windshield is now reduced to less than 2 metres ahead. And there’s an abundance of traffic warning signs, one in particular which makes in impression on me – showing a symbol of a rock falling on a symbol of a minibus.
Although it’s still daytime in La Paz here our passage is guided by looking out for the oncoming amber glows of the sparse flow of traffic infront. And it’s only through breaks in the clouds that there’s a hint of landscape. Quickly through the climate changes into something semi-tropical, and I can see foliage that sweeps the contours of the plunging vertical inclines below the wheels of the minibus. We enter the first of 3 tunnels, the exit of the tunnel marked by a mysterious white haze ahead – an appearance much like a snowglobe.
COROICO 76km and we’re at our half-way point. BOLIVIA 1474IHA reads the numberplate on the trailer van we’re tying to overtake. 2 children hang over the gate overlooking into our minibus, the driver consciously attempts his second and successful attempt to pass safely.Â
The smooth road bleeds into a rocky surface that throws the minibus into a potholed dance, before changing tempo for the asphalt road once again. Again we dance freeform. We hit sunny blue skies, bleak cloudy mists and icey patches. Now I wonder if the weather is changing at a lower altitude too or these conditions reflect the perfectly formed pockets of ambient weather phenomenon at 4000 metres?
Dirt track or road, it seems the contra-flows have priority and they take the smooth track of road, while we battle the old rocky path. COROICO 50km BIENVENIDOS. I’m starting to feel the use of my dead leg again and look out of the window at the small arid-looking trees, one’s which proudly sprout up to 2 or so metres set along the roadside. They offer a great comfort and compensate for a lack a crash barrier. This sets me to thinking to how Coroico might look more generally – it’s a place situated in the north of the jungle of this part of Bolivia.
Now the roadsides are randomly adorned with a mix of trees, shrubs and noticeable for their colour they shine in a variety of greens and iron rich tones of red and yellow in hints. As I look beyond the misty vapors, I imagine more of these abundant brilliant tropical colours. NO ADELANTAR (no overtaking) as more roadside barriers appear and also disappear at regular intervals. These are forewarning of a gully of water-flow either side of the road, and of where the familiar double-yellow lines appear along this diminutive camino. I think this these indicate we soon should be in view of our destination.Â
White lines continue to demarcate the ambiguous edges of the roadside. 40 VELOCIDAD. Another interior road is carved between 2 hospitable rock faces, and which give respite to my anxiety. Amber punctuations guide our way through another tunnel with yet another snowglobe like arch beacons our passage from the distance. Approaching the exit our driver slows hesitantly to a halt, the tunnel leading us onto another ambiguous stretch of road. This time an ambiguous looking bridge cuts through the cloud cover. BOSQUE MOUNTAÑO. NO ESTACIONAR. Only once did I hear the screech of the tyres. Thinking I’m thirsty I look to my bottle of water – it’s squeezed condensed appearance a sign of our descending altitude.Â
In the distance of the green rolling hillsides appears Coroico, yet at our height we will need to wind down even further and this time we seem to overlook brilliant shades of green and bursts of opaque white cloud. At this height birds start again to fly by. I can see ahead the next road curving below us as the driver ushers the minbus into a deeper descent. A bus screams past us, a young boy wearing a yellow knitted jumper hanging his head out of the window. 30 MAXIMUM VELOCIDAD. Contemplating my time in La Paz, I realise I haven’t been below 3000 metres in 16 days. La Paz is choked by localised pollution from cars stuttering along the avenues and cross streets. So will here be a chance to breath fresh mountain air?
For just 15Bs (£1.20) it’s possible to travel over 80km from the grey city to a place everyone thinks of as paradise. In the distance a pattern of orange with a surround of green appears as if a beam of light and energy emitting from the ground – giving it a beacon-like quality. Each time we pass oncoming traffic the driver double-toots the horn, even at the 2 lovers in an embrace. The clouds now regress themselves to normal height revealing the green mountainous terrain which clearly puts the beautiful nature is in balance once again.Â
From the minibus window the surroundings look more apparent. Now I’m free to notice the details in the minibus and see that the driver and his front-seat passenger neither of who wear seat-belts, as they chat about nothing much. In typical arch, there’s a rainbow in the clear sky above and which settles on a distant solitary house high up on the mountain’s peak. HOTEL REO SELVA RESORT. From this vantage you can smell the green that surrounds us, a sharp contrast from the chocking plumbs of smoke I came accustomed to back there in La Paz.
On the final descent we pass a crossflow of water, evidently on route to the river that’s responsible for having shaped the cavity below. A local man hops on board the minibus to take the place of the bread that had accompanied me for the last 2 hours of the journey. Now we make the final 8km ascent up to Coroico, the axel spinning aggressively and the terrain bouncing us around like babies in a rocking cradle. Along the way are vans parked and stacked rooftop high with mountain bikes. It’s evident  by looking at the expressions of the people sitting inside these vans that they’ve just done the 5km death road cycle.
As we get welcomed closer to our destination,  I see iron-enriched markings on the rock formations. A local family bounds on by in a jeep, most of them in a huddle, seated in the open. And the father stands unanimated, holding on tightly as the jeep gets thrown by the finely pebbled road. Again there seems to be a level of concentration in the minibus and our driver wills our minibus onwards and upwards. The guy sitting beside me pays his 2Bs and hops out. COROICO – LAND OF NATURAL ATTRACTION.Â
My ears start to feel the same popping sensation you get whilst descending towards touchdown on a flight. Cars line up along the roadside like a welcome entourage. Our driver takes on the oncoming taxi shunting forward into the bottleneck of their path – and wins. The minibus vibrates violently under the pressure of the pebbly path below for the last 15 minutes and then shudders still upwards. Nearly there...