A new feeling in the early morning: you pull the thick and warm blanket up to your chin and wonder whether the shower will produce hot or at least warm water.

The heat has indeed been left in the South, the temperature in the early morning is an estimated 15 degrees, which is about half of what it was yesterday at this time. On arrival at the hotel last night, the body notices the change in temperature, but it is still full of so much warmth that for a long time it just refuses to accept that it is colder than when I boarded the bus.

It' s not until two hours later, while enjoying a well-deserved beer, that a new feeling creeps up my bare legs: a still gentle cool caress, but in a short time it turns into an unpleasant sensation not felt for a long time: I shiver and get the warm jacket out of my backpack. Two hours later, in my small, cozy room, I slip under the warm blanket, and it wouldn't take much, and I already longed for the warmth to return.

I have landed in a hostel, but luckily I got a single room just in the last minute. It's a good in-between solution: I have a room for myself, but unlike a normal hotel, I meet loads of backpackers to share ideas with.

 

The sky is crying

The view out of the window displays pouring rain. This is supposed to be a slow day. From my room I have to walk no more than three meters through an roofless hallway, but it is enough to give me a shower. The breakfast room is full of young people, for once not staring at their cell phones, but actually having noisy and laughing discussions. From the snippets of conversation, I believe to hear a familiar accent. I'm sure this lady has a red passport. As she passes my table, I address her carefully: Suiza? Si. Suiza aleman? Si.

 

Daniela - Suiza alemana

Well, Basel and Zurich meet, and I have to admit that I am quite happy to be able to speak in dialect for a change.

The first conversations are always the same: where from, where to, how long? Once again, my two months are peanuts in comparison. Daniela has been on the road since last year and will not return to Europe until the end of April. However, during the day we spend together, I will learn that she is on the road for six to seven months every year. An envious feeling creeps in right away ...

 

Wanderer between the worlds

Cochabamba shows a rainy face on this day. So while another flood is falling outside, I take it easy.

A young man, whom I initially take for a local, addresses me. He is Swedish with a Bolivian father, whom he is visiting for the first time (his parents are divorced, he is the result of a midnight fusion of two different cultures which, according to experience, rarely turns out well).

His personal experiences are, not surprisingly, ambivalent: the differences to his home country Sweden are so drastic that he will probably need some time to come to terms with them. I can only advise him to give both worlds a chance, but it won't be easy. Being a wanderer between the worlds is a task for life.

 

Cochabamba's rainy face

It is not until noon that the rain subsides and there is nothing in the way of a short exploration of the city.

This city is laid out like a chessboard, so you can might find your way around quite easily. A few respectable hills frame the city like giant sentinels; on the highest one you will find the world's largest statue of Christ (larger than the one in Rio). A cable car leads up, but one might as well go up on foot, which is not recommended. Apparently there have been several assaults on innocent hikers.

But since I don't feel like hiking up to a statue of Christ anyway, I don't really care.

 

Cochabamba Plaza

Cochabamba alleys

Cochabamba squares

 

Warnings

What I do care about, however, are those permanent warnings, which are getting on my nerves more and more.

You have to be careful that they don't start to settle into your subconscious until, like an American tourist from the Bible Belt, you feel surrounded by evil (godless) men all the time. It's a matter of maintaining a common sense of caution, and not seeking out the darkest streets and bars at night, and perhaps even counting your money. Of course, anything can happen at any time, but the probability is significantly lower than getting into an accident with a dilapidated bus ...

 

Graffiti

Just before the rain returns in the late afternoon, we discover a cute little square full of graffiti. Unlike the junk you sometimes encounter in Switzerland, here real artists did have a hand in it.

 

Murals in Cochabamba

Finally, the rain returns, and a frantic escape to a small wonderfully furnished pub brings us to dry ground.

There the discussions on life and traveling continue and go deeper. It' s always amazing how quickly this can happen. Ultimately, these encounters are the real icing on the cake, not the cathedrals or stupas or monuments, but the encounters with real people who are on a quest.

 

Mileage: 2930

Matching Song:   The Rolling Stones - Paint it black

And here the journey continues ... to Sucre

 

Related Articles

Leave a comment

Your e-mail address will not be published. Required fields are marked with * marked

This website uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn more about how your comment data is processed.

Discover more from Travelbridge

Subscribe now to continue reading and access the entire archive.

Read more