20 NOV - 27 NOV
That line can be taken to mean quite a few things and hence if I attempt a Copperfield and use poetic license to convey some artistic slight of hand then it might just fit in with how my days in La Paz came to an abrupt end. It goes a little something like this...
La Paz had become the solvent upon which the bonds of the 'Parque Ambue Ari travelling crew' were quickly dissolving. After having survived the Road of Death the day before I had initially convinced myself that the following day would be the ideal time to head out of La Paz solo and make my way to the salt flats of the Salar de Uyuni. A 3500mtr drop in elevation, a 64km ride (albeit all downhill as Nick kindly noted) and a fairly active day out put paid to that idea. Simple fact of the matter was that I was getting irritated with the indecisive nature of everyone involved and hitting the road solo was really going to be the only suitable remedy me. Mentally therefore what I decided to do was that I would stay in La Paz for an additional 5-7 days and undertake the Spanish course that I had initially wanted to complete in Sucre. Post curso de español the plan was to head a short way out of La Paz to Lake Titicaca and then make my way to Cusco in order to get to what I imagined was going to be one of 'the' highlights of the trip, Machu Picchu.
It was at this point in time that I started to get particularly excited about heading north and making my way into Peru. I still hadn't made my mind up however as to whether I would continue on the northerly vector after Cusco and line myself up with Ecuador and Colombia or whether I would make it to the Amazonian port town of Iquitos in north-eastern Peru and rent myself a slow swaying hammock on an equally slow moving boat down river to the mouth of the Amazon in Belem. I had time however, it was still all in front of me.
Near the Witches Market - La Paz - Bolivia
An actual 'Zebra crossing' - La Paz had a few of these - obviously someone has a sense of humour
The days that I spent in La Paz were actually quite enjoyable and relaxing. During these particular days I found myself alone more often than not which I have to admit was something that I had been craving. Dina had made her way north to Lake Titicaca with Frida and Jenny for a few days, Gado was busy preparing himself for another Amazonian jungle ambush and Nick & Jade were planning there own way into Peru, well that was in the space between the constant fire fights they were having. This time to myself actually allowed me to develop a bit of a routine in La Paz whereby each day I'd make my way to the bar for breakfast at the Wild Rover, dose myself up with the requisite amount of caffeine and then lock myself into Spanish study for a few hours whilst intermittently checking in on the news of the world via the BBC at the other end of the bar. I'm not sure why it's the case with me but for some reason I always feel better or more satisfied with my being when I'm studying or taking on classes, I guess 17 years at university will do that to a man, it's called classical institutionalism. Heading out from the Wild Rover each morning I'd make the 20 min stroll across town under the typically thin, transparent and refined blue Andean sky to calle Sagamama. Quite often I'd get lost in my own thoughts, enjoy the surroundings of a still very unfamiliar town or self monitor in relation to how my altitude adaptation was going. After 2hours of Spanish I'd drop down into the Cuban restaurant next door, have myself lunch with a classic Cuban mojito and then browse the small shops in the area near the witches market before heading back to the Wild Rover for an afternoon in the sun and a book in hand, Rusty Youngs' Marching Powder more often than not being the book of choice on most occasions.
Nightfever at the Wild Rover
Jenny 'trying' to be awesome like me but not quite making it!
With my days in La Paz winding down and the time quickly approaching for me to head off I decided that I would more than likely wait for Dina to get back into town from Lake Titicaca so that we could at least have a few drinks together with the rest of the crew before bidding one another farewell and godspeed on our respective journeys. Somewhere about the 25th of November Dina had made her way back to base quite late. Jade, Nick and myself had been out at a half decent Mexican restaurant that evening and Gado had 'I assume' been getting his gear together for his Amazonian escapade. By the time D had made her way into our room at the Wild Rover we were mostly on our own journey into a high altitude dreamland but never the less did still have the presence of mind to confirm that we would all be up for one last throw of the dice the next evening, and with that sleep came swiftly.
Swiftly to sleep with the aid of the local brew
For some reason this night of sleep was quite fitfull and progressed in an odd fashion. I distinctly recall that at one point a drunk couple managed to fumble their way into our room and then stumble out but on questioning the crew in the morning nobody could quite put their finger on how long they stayed. Later in the morning Gado was up at somewhere close to 4am getting his gear ready for departure. For most of the next hour all I recall is the light of the room being switched on and off a ridiculous number of times as Gado made his way too and from the common bathroom (or so I assume). It was like a really bad highschool disco and in turn it seemed to trigger a dream-initiated lucid dream, one in which I actually dreamt that I had gotten out of my bunk bed and turned the light off and then realised in turn within my dream that I had in fact been dreaming, I mean seriously, I know in myself that I'd actually be too lazy to do that.
Somewhere close to 8am I woke with the assistance of a few rays of Andean sun hitting my face. Taking in my surroundings I noticed that the rest of the crew were also starting to stir at about the same time. As I looked aimlessly around the room my eyes stopped at some errant shampoo and conditioner that had somehow made its way from being zipped up in my bag to taking pride of place on top of one of the locked up cupboards. After a moments thought I assumed that Dina had obviously had a follicle emergency the evening before after having endured the torment of Lake Titicaca and in turn raided our Ambue Ari stash of biodegradable hair care products. Not that in itself that was something to be alarmed about but I did remember that in my moderately tipsy entry into the room the evening before I had placed my wallet on the exact same pocket from where she had pulled out the items. For reasons that I couldn't quite pinpoint at the time that simple act had made me feel a little uneasy but as you do with trivial events such as these you completely disregard them and move on.
We all met up in our own time at the Wild Rover bar for breakfast at close to 8:30am, mostly just an excursion for the sake up dosing up on caffeine than actually acquiring any sustenance. As had come the custom in the previous few days I was lost in bit of Spanish study for the morning and didn't really take notice of what was going on around me. I recalled something about perhaps catching up later in the afternoon but that was going to be dependant upon 'so and so' getting back from 'who knows where'. You see, I really wasn't paying attention this morning.
After breakfast we headed back to our room, my intention was to grab a few items and be out of there relatively quickly in order to make the walk to the other side of town. I opened the pocket of the bag where I had left my wallet the night before and rummaged around for a few seconds without my hand touching anything that I thought was a wallet. With that failed attempt I went back in and rummaged for a little longer, this time with both hands. After coming up short on both occasions I stopped and mentally retraced my steps from the night before, reassuring myself in the process that I had in actual fact left it in this specific location. As I went back into the bag pocket for a third attempt I both diligently and specifically started removing the large items in the pocket that I assumed the wallet could be very well hiding behind. It was at this point that I kind of half mumbled out aloud, 'Hmmm, can't seem to find my wallet'. I think it was Jade that said 'Don't worry, I'm sure it'll surface soon enough', and at that point in the search I was 100% confident that it would. As I continued however and my search area broadened from the pocket of my bag, to the entirety of my bag, to the floorspace around my bag, a tiny strand of doubt entered my mind and the whisper started to become more audible with each passing minute. As I methodically took every single item out of my bag and then repacked them on three separate occasions, it started to dawn on me that something else may have actually happened in this room whilst we were out. Over the next hour Nick, Jade, Dina and myself covered most of the space in the room until at one point we all stopped and someone put the pointed and unfortunately blunt question to me, 'What are you going to do?'. It was at that precise moment that I realised that I'd just stepped over the boundary for the end-point of my journey and as my heart sank the only realistic option for me was outlined in the response I provided, 'Well, I think I'm going to have to go home'. I don't think it was the response that anyone was really expecting to hear from me. I guess the frustration, anger and helplessness of the situation just manifested itself in the idea that a homeward journey right at this point would be the best thing for me. Dina suggested that I just take a few days out to relax, get over the anger and disappointment of the situation and make a decision that was rational and not rash. I knew that as perfectly reasonable as that sounded in myself I was convinced that the end had hit me squarely in the face and that in all likelihood within 4-5 days I would be back home in Sydney. Machu Picchu and Rio de Janiero were now unfortunately going to be left being. Places that were to be more than just the highlights of my trip but also realisations of lifelong dreams now departed from the forefront of my mind with the onset of severe disappointment.
The hassle of cancelling cards and checking with your credit providers that nothing untoward has happened from the point in time that you realised that your cards were stolen to the point in time that you make the call is one of the most tedious, irritating and disappointing things that you need to do in a situation such as this. Not to say that I wasn't offered options either. My family told me that they were quite willing to front me with the money that I needed to continue my journey and both JJ and Jet stated that they would also quite happily come to my rescue and assist with the continuation of my South American fix (thanks guys, your generosity and selflessness was more than greatly appreciated and will always be remembered!!). Unfortunately that's just not me. I'm not the type of person that at all feels comfortable with borrowing large sums of money and in addition the hassle of having to make it to a Western Union to pick up $ intermittently was just not going to be conducive the where and how I wanted to travel for the rest of my time in South America. Last drinks on this journey had unfortunately been called before what I thought was closing time and that's something I needed to accept. Over the next few days that I spent in La Paz organising my way back to Buenos Aires and in turn a way home I came to terms with the situation and eventually became a little philosophical about what happened. I was just going to have to head for home and allow myself the time to dream it all up again one day.
Siga de suenos - follow your dreams...So I guess if as the title of the post suggests, that 'you're worth what you've got' then I have to say that right now I'm worth a bucket load of dreams that are just waiting for the right time for Dr Destiny to knock on door and provide me with the opportunity to follow them once more, and I will, I know that I can count on myself to do that. As Che was once quoted in saying within the context of his restless life of exporting revolution, 'Many of us wish to die the death that we wish and to live the life that we dreamed', well, I have plenty of dreams and I'm happy to wait for the right time for me to be able to live them out :)
