Sunday 18 August 1997- Huatajata to Guaqui to La Paz

Ra II

There was time to take a look at a reproduction of Thor Heyerdahl's reed boat Ra II before boarding the hydrofoil for the continuation of our journey to Guiqui. The 90 minute journey was uneventful. What a difference the weather makes. It was sunny and warm at Guiqui which was a complete contrast from my cold and miserable visit with Mary a couple of years ago.

There are two railway sheds in which some steam locomotives are kept:

#704 2-10-2 Baldwin
#9 2-8-0 Hunslet
#4 2-6-0 Rogers
0-4-0 Peckett (lettered for the Ferrocarril Guaqui (FCG)
2-8-0 Alco

A quiet word with the switch engine crew, reinforced with Operation Lifesaver pins all around, and they pulled #704 and #9 out of the shed and into the sun for photography.

Guaqui

We had been assured that the diesel rail car was on its way to pick us up and so there was a little time to wander around sleepy Guiqui on a Sunday morning. There was a seven-a-side soccer match under way which seemed altogether too much exercise for us at this altitude. The Bolivian rail car took us to Viacha. There is some agriculture on the altiplano with a number of farms built of adobe and completely walled. I was impressed at the many colors in the landscape. The blue sky contrasted against the yellow grass and green bushes with red brown soil and brown adobe buildings. Occasionally salt pans would add a touch of white to the scene. The burros could be particularly shaggy here and there were a few birds such as woodcock which, when flushed from cover, flew off with a loud whirring of wings. As we approached Viacha, snow covered volcanoes formed an impressive backdrop.

Many kids were playing soccer and basketball in Viacha - they all had rosie chubby cheeks.

Viacha

After a short visit to the Viacha railway shop we started on the last leg of the trip to La Paz. The driver casually mentioned that the line was not open into La Paz - there was track work and we had to get the bus which was waiting for us at La Paz station to come to El alto. The railway company had forgotten to tell us. El Alto, on the outskirts of La Paz but 1,000 ft higher in elevation, was busy and the railway right of way was used as an impromptu market. All kinds of things were being sold, I saw a stand selling nothing but armadillos - dead ones.

People parked on the track did not take kindly to being disturbed by a train - probably with good reason. The last time we came through this way the rail car hit a pedestrian and came to a quick stop. The train crew got down and felt the offender all over to ensure he had no broken bones. Two brakeman then held him while the conductor beat him up.

We made it to the hotel quickly and I had some aggravation trying to find in which room the hotel stuff had hidden my bag.