Hola from Bolivia,
What country would rejoice in having one of its roads known as “Death Road” (El Camino de Muerte)? You’d think none, wouldn’t you? Nobody wants to be known around the world as having roads that are more well-known for the deaths they cause than the connections they make. Wrong! Bolivia is home to the Death Road, a mountain pass once the only surface connection between the fertile and productive valley and the city of La Paz.
If the tourism industry’s biggest gift to the human race is converting perceived weakness into virtue, Bolivia does it better than anybody. Who wants to travel through a bone-dry desert? Turns out, loads of tourists sign up for this in Bolivia every day of the year. Who would be interested in a salt lake? Turn out, thousands every week. Who might find a train cemetery a drawcard? Loads.
El Camino de Muerte was once the only connection between the valley where they grow the food and the big city where they eat it. It was a narrow mountain pass, built on – for most of the journey – sheer cliffs. If the vehicle goes over the edge, it’s curtains. The road developed its own notoriety as the accidents ended many a journey up or down the 41 kilometre pass. The name is not an invention of Mr. Clarkson from television, but an epithet applied by locals for many decades.
Today, it’s only downhill, with a drop of more than three thousand metres. For the tourists who want to add the experience to their memory, it’s a bicycle ride in a guided group. On the day of my ride, it was raining. At all stages, I thought the organisers were on the verge of aborting. Rain equates to extra danger, surely! But, Marco and Mauricio were smiling and laughing the whole time, completely relaxed about the outing. Even after the rain turned to sleet, it was on, on.
And, when the sun came out, it was a great day, with no mishaps. The cold beer at the bottom was downed with a mixture of relief and exhilaration. I recommend the bike ride down El Camino de Muerte. It’s where Bolivia turns weakness into virtue.
Adios from Bolivia
Gregorio
