Not the capital of Bolivia, therefore not the highest capital city, but it is the highest governmental city in the world instead. It is certainly a tricky business breathing in this city. Not least because there is less oxygen (3640m), but because of the horrific pollution. Not a single car, bus, truck or bicycle seems to cough out anything other than black smokey oil. And there are so many vehicles that there really is no avoiding it. Not that the Bolivians notice, not one was wearing a filter, or even covering their mouths in vain, like me with my scarf. Despite this, central La Paz seemed friendly, we got a good shower and an interesting night out from Lokie Hostal, then I lost my phone. Smartphones certainly prove themselves useful when traveling, but you are always bound to lose things on journeys like these. Actually we've lost quite a few objects... Having had one night, and enough, of amicable drunk Australians, loud obnoxious men from Watford, and snoring girls, we hopped out of Lokie Hostal and opted for a quiet, cheap hotel decorated with European suits of armour, antique telephones and a beautiful courtyard atrium. Really, it is just nice to be in the same place for a while. We did a little bit of exploring: we saw the central market; the witches market; the immense clothes market; and the various Christmas trees, including one made from chopped up sprite bottles. But we didn't take any pictures, except one of two llamas kissing... Susi's mother came to join us at the end of the weekend, and we are to spend ten days together in Bolivia touring the salt flats of Uyuni. Roxana is as sweet and lovely as step mothers come. She is kind, patient and relaxes you with an easy smile, which is hugely comforting considering the language barrier! We got to know each other over coffee and lunch, before the unexpected happened... Roxana broke her palate of false teeth whilst grappling with an olive. Not to be embarrassed by this, she smoothly puts it away and carries on with lunch, I didn't notice a thing. Casually, Roxana asks if we have any super glue to fix her shoes, which look fairly new to me. "Of course I do, I'll fix them for you later". Turns out two part glue doesn't take to false teeth, so a trip to the dentist is in order the next day. On arrival at the dentist, Roxana realises she has forgotten the palate, so we go back to the hotel. We can't find it. So, retracing steps, we walk to the dentist, only to find the besieged palate on the street in more broken pieces than before, after a busy Bolivian had crushed them under what must have been very study boots. Consulting with the dentist, the palate is to be remade with the original teeth for 10am the next day, just enough time to catch a train at 3:30pm from a town 4.5 hours away by bus, right.....?
