We flew a small turboprop–just ten rows on the airplane–from Santa Cruz to the higher elevations of Sucre, Bolivia. As we were standing around in the tiny airport waiting for our bags, Erika complained that she could feel the altitude already. I doubted this–we’d just gotten there–but before we left the airport, I could too.

Most of Bolivia ranges from ‘high altitude’ to ‘obscenely high altitude.’ At about 9200 feet, Sucre lies more on the ‘high altitude’ end of the spectrum, and as such makes an excellent place to start the acclimatization process. We’d planned three nights there, to start easing our way in before heading up to the ridiculous heights of La Paz.

The airport is brand new and is about 40 minutes outside of Sucre. Taxis are easy to get, and inexpensive, and the driver we had is one of our favorite drivers we had in all of South America. He drove carefully and reasonably, and we appreciated his lower speeds as we wound around the precipitous cliffs on the way into town!

The drive from the airport goes through some of the most beautiful landscapes you’ll ever see. Dark, volcanic-colored soil contrasted with bright green desert succulents, all rolling over endless hills and mountains, with the clouds hanging so low it feels like you can grab hold of them. Erika and I were transfixed by it, and completely forgot about the impending doom the thin air was carrying!

We got to our hostel in Sucre, and were greeted warmly and in fluent English. The owner, Rakesh, was a South African expat, who came to Sucre in order to learn Spanish, and never left. He was incredibly personable and friendly, and we enjoyed talking with him our entire stay. Rakesh helped us quickly get settled in, and gave us some quick pointers of where to go and what to see.

Baby’s Got The Bends

Erika was rapidly feeling badly from the altitude, and the effects were more slowly catching up with me. We shambled our way through town to a restaurant for dinner, climbed the endless stairs as Erika wheezed behind me, sat down at our table, and proceeded to die. Both of us just buried heads in hands, crushed by headaches. Erika’s never really spent any time at elevation, and it’s been a few years since I have, plus we just lived the good, easy life at beaches for a few weeks… it was an adjustment.

We wasted no time in getting our first introduction to coca tea. Coca tea was recommended by everyone–from locals, to fellow travelers, to our wedding coordinator, to our travel clinic nurse–as a means to help cope with the effects of altitude. Coca tea, if you aren’t familiar, is made from coca leaves, which happen to be the same thing that cocaine is made from. We were drinking cocaine. Granted, much, much, much weaker cocaine.

Between drinking plenty of water, and the coca tea, and getting some food, we started to feel a lot better. And the dinner was excellent! Beautiful Italian dishes, and it would not be the last time we visited that restaurant.

Friends and Conversation

The hostel provided us a fantastic, varied breakfast, which Erika and I naturally dragged ourselves down to at the last possible minute. We ate plenty–more than plenty–and also got to spend this time getting to better know a couple of others who lived at the hostel: Tom and Bongo.

We’d met them both the previous day, but this was the first quality time we all got to spend together. Tom is the beautiful Siamese cat that lives there, and Bongo is the adorable, friendly dog who does. We loved them, and they both instantly seemed to take a liking to Erika and me, too.

Too much of a liking, it seems. Tom jumped up in my lap, hung out there for a long while… then eventually got a little too frisky and friendly. Sorry Tom, I’m a married man!

Rakesh eventually joined us, and the three of us dug into some great conversations. We talked about South Africa and his time there, and he told us about some of his business ventures in Mozambique. We also talked about Namibia, which he had nothing but good things to say about, even giving us some recommendations in Windhoek.

Naturally, we ended up talking about politics.

“I never really liked Obama,” he said, officially becoming the first foreigner I’ve ever heard say that. Erika and I couldn’t agree with him there. Granted, don’t think he’s some fan of Trump.

“He’s an idiot,” he succinctly and accurately summarized. “You guys haven’t really had a good president in a long time.”

Other than Obama, I can’t really argue with him there. We haven’t had a decent one since, what, the 60s? That’s a hefty stretch of shitty presidents!

At any rate, we got to talk about South Africa politics as well, which obviously has a… rough history. One thing I’ve really enjoyed during our travels is hearing the thoughts our fellow travelers have about politics in their home countries.

Then a guy from Belgium came up and offered us his thoughts on politics in his home country.

“It’s all the refugees that’s causing all the problems,” he started. Eeeek! A helpful reminder that virulent racism isn’t confined just to my home. Time to get out and see the town!

Cafes and Parks

We walked through the beautiful town square, and across to the other side of town where there was a large park, and a cafe that Rakesh had recommended for coffee. The weather had been very overcast all morning, so we were hoping to get a drink and give the weather time to clear up. The coffee was excellent, and the plan worked perfectly: we left to bright, blue skies and a stunning day!

We started by crossing the street into Parque Simón Bolivar, which on top of being filled with beautiful landscaping, also has a large number of food vendors, an adorable children’s park, and, naturally, an Eiffel Tower. The saddest little Eiffel Tower you’ll see.

Next, we walked through the children’s park, which has amazing and abundant recess equipment. Including the single greatest recess equipment ever:

That’s a huge slide in the shape of a Brontosaurus, and Erika is sliding down it! We both took turns sliding down the Brontosaurus, giggling like children. A nearby mother was laughing with us (at us?) as well, amused at the giant children we are.

Afterwards, still giggling together, we wandered over to the market and had a great lunch for just a couple dollars. We were loving Sucre already!

Miradors and Museums

One side of town leads up a fairly big hill which gives spectacular views of the city. Of course, climbing said hill is much easier said than done, with the altitude elephant sitting on our chests. But we took our time, managed it, and were rewarded for our efforts.

After taking in the views (and catching our breath) we went to the nearby Indigenous Arts museum. There, we got to see and learn about the tapestries and textiles made over the centuries by the various indigenous peoples native to Bolivia. The works are staggeringly intricate and beautiful.

La Ciudad Blanca

Having hit most of the key attractions the previous day, we woke up the next morning and decided just to wander the city, to enjoy its quiet and to take pictures. Sucre’s nickname is ‘La Ciudad Blanca,’ or ‘The White City,’ named so because of all the white painted buildings throughout town. With the abundant sunshine we had on the two beautiful days we spent in town, these white buildings were resplendent, gleaming a stunningly bright white.

Return to the Dinosaur Park

Eventually, our wandering took us back across town to Parque Simón Bolivar, where we again found ourselves in the dinosaur kid’s park. This time, we spotted something we didn’t see the day before: dinosaur see-saws! Erika chose a triceratops, I hopped onto a T-rex, and we got to see-sawing!

Sadly, no pictures of this event exist. Also, I don’t understand why you think it’s weird that two people in their mid-30s keep going and hanging out at children’s parks.

Conquistadores Por Un Día

Speaking of children, after we jumped off our dinosaurs and were walking back through the park, we were approached by three young girls who looked like girl scouts. They excitedly explained some things to us which… we didn’t understand at all. Sorry, I can barely understand children in English. But eventually we gathered they wanted us to come with them, and we thought why the hell not. The girls then told us they needed to put their scarves around our necks, I guess to mark us as theirs. So, adorably and hilariously, we donned our new scarves and followed the girls through the park.

They led us to a station where their group, the Conquistadores, had put together a number of presentations. The Club de Conquistadores is an organization through the Seventh Day Adventist church, it turns out, and they seem to essentially be like girl scouts. They have different troops, they camp, and learn different camping skills like fire starting, how to properly pack a backpack, and calibrating compasses. They took us through numerous stations at their setup that described all of this.

An older girl came up to us when the girls brought us to the station. She asked if we spoke Spanish–

“un poquito,” we replied–

and then she launched into a rapid-fire presentation of what they were doing, all in Spanish. Context clues helped me follow most of it, but, whew, that ” un poquito” didn’t slow down anything!

In the end, I don’t know if this was just meant to be spreading the word, or functioned as fund raising. There weren’t really any signs toward fund raising, and no one asked us for any donations. They were selling some hand-whittled wooden bowls, and we bought one just to do a little something for them.

At any rate, we became ‘Conquistadores por un día,’ and when the presentations were over, our girls took their scarves back and we said goodbye to everyone. Buena suerte, niñas!

Punch Bug

Getting to Sucre kicked off something unexpected, that would continue for the next month and a half as we made our way through Bolivia, Peru, and Mexico: an intense game of punch bug. I knew we’d end up seeing VW beetles in Mexico, but it never occurred to me they’d be in South America too.

Sucre was full of them!

As the trip would go on, Erika and I both got extremely good at spotting them. We could identify a punch bug just by seeing the slightest sliver of the car. We could identify them just by their sound.

(This most hilariously happened weeks later when we were in Mexico, inside the lobby of our hotel, and we both heard a punch bug somewhere outside. We both started running for the door, Erika getting to it first; she turned left, turned right, then cackled with glee as she punched me. It really was one!)

Naturally, this couldn’t all be fun and games; it was inevitable that tragedy would strike eventually. And it didn’t take long, either, as tragedy struck while we in Sucre.

We were walking back to our hotel, walking side-by-side. At the intersection up ahead of us, we see a punch bug roll out. We both reacted instantly: Erika turned to her left to slug me, I turned to my right to deck her. My reaction was just a little bit quicker… my fist just got there a little sooner.

I punched my wife right in the boob.

Erika yelped with pain and I howled with laughter. It wouldn’t be the only punch bug related injury, but it’s still the one we joke about the most!

What’s Next?

We were sad to say goodbye to Sucre, one of my favorite places we’ve visited the entire trip. I can’t more highly recommend visiting! But, it was time to ratchet up the altitude difficulty level and head to the dizzying heights of La Paz. Come back next time to hear about our time there!