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Belarus Practical Guide Minsk. Balaton Budapest. Macedonian Wine Ohrid Skopje. Antwerp Flanders Top-5 Destinations. Haifa vs. DMZ Zone. Bohol Manila. Cappadocia Edirne Istanbul Kars. You're welcome. Numerous scams ripping off tourists from all their savings, pollution, corruption, drugs trafficking… Also the night bus had some bad reputation of its own, as apparently sometimes the driver takes a detour to the slums to give thieves free access. No half measurements for this chick though. I brought my backpack into the bus instead of putting it in the luggage room and tied it to my body with scarfs. If those bastards would take their chances to steal it, they would basically have to drag me out of the bus with it. I fell asleep with my deodorant in one hand and my killer stiletto heel in the other, related to my plan to first spray the poison straight into the eyes of possible thieves and then eliminate them by slapping them in the nuts with my pumps straight after. When I think about it, it's almost a shame that nothing happened. As usual, when you set your expectations that low, the only thing that awaits you is a positive surprise. So when I woke up driving in the mountains and saw La Paz lying in the valley in front of me, lit up by the early sunrise, it literally took my breath away. This was absolutely the most gorgeous capital I ever saw, what a location! After I checked into a hostel I entered the dorm and witnessed 2 people having sex. I greeted them and unpacked my back while they continued. The altitude forced me into a slow morning, which I used to explore the many markets, whose tentacles expand into the entire city. Although the Bolivian kitchen seems to be notorious for its lousy deep fry, I was positively amazed by its alternatives. I never paid more than a euro for a sometimes 3-course meal, and so far my stomach never turned against me. After I watched free street theatre in front of the San Francisco church and bought some instant love potion at the witch market , I hit the bars with the sex-guy of my dorm as well as two Americans and drank the night away with some terrible Bolivian wine they do beer better. The next day I accidentally ran into a free cultural festival. Still swinging I hurried to the San Pedro prison , where a free walking tour took off. San Pedro houses prisoners and is led by 12 guards. There are different sections, based on how much money you can afford on a cell. Where my country rewards criminals with a free cell including playstation, tv and books, Bolivia let their criminals pay rent for a place in prison. Well done. In between these stabbings and liquidations a society is created, as many prisoners live in jail together with their wife and children. In between the prison walls the inmates work in restaurants, like lawyers or vendors, or the San Pedro favorite: in the cocaine business. Their wives can easily smuggle it out somewhere in their massive layer skirts, and if not they just throw it over the prison walls, no one cares. My parents can thank the free walking tour guide though, as she changed my mind with her examples of tourists getting trapped, raped and stripped of all of their belongings after which they are dropped off in Chile without a passport. Hm, maybe not. At an ever-changing location silver platters full of high purity lines are supposedly served with every drink. So I went. I gathered around some French boys and a pumped up Irish vacuum cleaner and spoke the magic words to a random cab driver…. The only sound was my own bouncing heartbeat… the mess I got myself in this time, did I test my luck too much? Doors opened, there it was: a big-pupiled bunch of nervous people hysterically giggling, attacking trenchers with endless white savannahs. After a solid night of sleep yes I tried to reach the Museo Arte Contemporaneo. In this privately owned museum the impressive paintings are actually for sale. Then I took a collectivo to another happy destination: the central cemetery. Just like at markets, I think the true culture of a country can be found at cemeteries. Your corpse get dropped into a station wagon, and upon your arrival at the church your partner will run around you screaming hysterically while your friends throw flowers. All of this accompanied by an unshaved dude with a cowboy head playing guitar straight out of the heart. Your body will disappear in one of the massive grave flats, high above the ground. Well, after I got back to the hostel safe and sound, I found yet another way to put my life at risk: The Death Road, supposedly the most deathliest road in the world. Heavily commercialized, but well worth the views is this mountain bike tour from Cumbre to Coroico straight through waterfalls and along the steepest slopes you can imagine. Prices vary widely, and being Dutch I off course choose the cheapest company Chacaltaya. I watched my poor group members, bike after bike breaking down. So I brushed the dust off, smiled and continued until the end, where I got my very own I-survived-the-Death-Road-shirt. I was thinking about staying in La Paz for 1 or 2 days max, but ended up staying a week. This service is and will remain free. Related: - Go to the Bolivia Page for more blogs! San Salvador, El Salvador - Yay or nay? Panama City
Hi, I wanted to report here it still the cocaine bar in La Paz still exists! You need to ask a taxi to take you to it.
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Route 36 is an illegal pop-up lounge bar located in La Paz, Bolivia where cocaine is served by the gram on a silver platter, along with the cocktail of your choice. It also seems to be somewhere literally everyone knows about, which leads you to suspect that, for it to remain open, there may be an element of corruption at play. Of course, while everyone knows of it, not everybody knows where it actually is. After provoking blank faces from three cabbies, we eventually found our man. He quoted us 15 bolivianos just over a buck and took us on our way. The only hiccup on our journey was the roadblock we had to circumvent. The day before our taxi ride, at the end of July, those demands were delivered by way of dynamite set off in the middle a busy road. This is the sort of climate in which La Paz has resided for the past few years; tourists indulging in artisanal local drug services, while protests rage every couple of months, from soldiers demanding better working conditions to the disabled campaigning for better welfare support. Arriving at the bar, we were almost manhandled through a four-foot opening in what looked like a garage door by the three young Bolivian men who were rather inconspicuously standing guard outside. It was delivered to us instantly. Route 36 changes location as soon as there are complaints from the locals. According to a few of the guys sat around the table, it had been here for several weeks. There were around 20 people in the bar. We were sat with eight English gap year kids, two Belgian professionals, and the Norwegian. Half a dozen Irish businessmen were sat on the opposite side of the bar, definitely the most wound up and coke-y of everyone in there, in addition to two bar-women, the hostess, the DJ who kept playing fucking terrible dubstep , and two security guards constantly pacing around. In the Andes, the leaf is considered a sacred commodity, and President Evo Morales is a staunch defender of its medicinal and nutritional qualities. And he makes a very valid point; its cultural importance for Andean people, who have chewed the leaf for thousands of years, is primarily to relieve altitude sickness, not facilitate four-hour house party conversations with your boss about how to improve workflow. Since legalizing coca cultivation after he was elected in , Morales has repeatedly insisted that coca is not cocaine, calling on the UN to remove it from its list of prohibited drugs. I had to excuse myself from pleasantries and introductions to rack up on the cut-out surfaces that the bar had provided. Unsurprisingly, I became chattier than usual as we all exchanged life stories and travel tips. This place was a far cry from their experience that day. The bar had a deal going, so Josephine and I pooled our cash with our two new friends to get four grams for the price of three. Suddenly a charismatic—but a little wet behind the ears—Swedish guy pitched up next to us and started passing lines around for everyone. I had to show him how to snort the coke. He was the kind of man who would get busted in a second anywhere besides the security of that box, and his entrance summed up the ease with which one can locate the place. By 5 AM I was pretty wired, chain smoking cigarettes and talking very much at people rather than with them. At around half 6, a woman in her fifties asked us if we wanted any weed, trying to avoid the gaze of the bar-staff. Photo by Zxc via. By Manisha Krishnan and Keegan Hamilton. By Drew Schwartz. By Nathaniel Janowitz. By Manisha Krishnan. Share: X Facebook Share Copied to clipboard. Videos by VICE.
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In between the prison walls the inmates work in restaurants, like lawyers or vendors, or the San Pedro favorite: in the cocaine business. Their wives can easily.
Buy coke La Paz
Buy coke La Paz
Route 36 is an illegal after-hours lounge in La Paz, Bolivia, and, according to The Guardian, the world's first cocaine bar.
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