Alone Again (but not too unhappy about it)

I'm back in La Paz, for about the 100th time. Not that I don't love the place: I do. Even though it reeks of wee. Today, as I wandered round on my various errands, people were marching again through the streets for something or other, and firing disturbingly loud gunshots into the air at regular intervals. Probably they were on their "La sede no se mueve" rant again, objecting to proposals to move the seat of government to Sucre. (Similar protests are happening in Sucre, I am told, with people chanting the slogan "La sede si se mueve" instead.) On several occasions I apologised for bumping into people before looking down and realising that the campesinos had deliberately shoved their open palms into my stomach in the hope that I'd give them a Boliviano or two. I sometimes did.

This is my first day in about two and a half months as a lone traveller again. It always feels a little strange to be alone again after travelling with friends that you've got to know over the last month or two. You'd think I'd get used to it by now, I must have done it about 10 times on this trip. But arriving at my hostel room for one I still experienced the feeling of mild hopelessness thinking of everything I had to sort out without anyone to discuss it with, and slightly at a loss as to what to do with myself. I suppose I have been in Bolivia now for two and a half months, and every time I've travelled in Bolivia I've been with friends, so it has been my longest stint travelling with others.

And today has been pretty demanding. I had to sort out getting to Colombia for this Friday, which was a bit of a mission. I thought I'd won yesterday when (after much searching through Spanish websites) I found a flight from La Paz to Cali for 300 Euros. Unfortunately it turned out I couldn't get away with inventing a Spanish address to make the reservation (I even found the corresponding postcode!), so the company cancelled my ticket. I tried calling them and persuading them to sell me the ticket anyway, but they said it wasn't possible. So I did some more internet searching and did the rounds of agencies before deciding that unless I wanted to pay a small fortune I ought to get the bus to Lima and fly from there. So I had to go to the bus station and begin another search. Finally, after about 4 hours of kerfuffle, I had my flight and my bus ticket. I leave tomorrow morning for Lima. My next job was carting two heavy boxes of stuff across La Paz to the post office to post home. It was hard work dodging marching protesters and trying not to drop my load every time a gunshot sounded, and I had to make a seperate trip for each box. People must have been very curious. I'll be home about a month before my package, but it was double the price to send them by air so they're going by boat. It's probably a good thing I've had my hands full today (haha) as otherwise I might have got a bit sad about parting with the others and gone on a frenzied artesania shopping spree to make me feel better. I've just about managed to fit everything in my bags after sending loads home; buying 10 kilos more of Alpaca knitwear and patterned rugs would not have been a good idea.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a happy lone traveller. I've got plenty of fantastic memories to think back over, a couple of books to occupy me, and I'm in one of my favourite cities. I enjoy being independent and I like my own company most of the time. Plus I'm only alone till Friday or Saturday; then I meet Carlos for some Colombia travelling. Plus plus, in a little more than 2 weeks, I'll be home. Until recently I'd always thought I didn't really want to go home, but as it's got closer and closer I've started to look forward to home things. Friends and family I've always... I'd use the word miss, but that has sad connotations. I've been looking forward to seeing them since I left, and I've always imagined sharing my experiences with them, but never I've never wanted to come home and stop travelling to see them. Because I know there'll be time when I get back. I think that's one of the things that Africa taught me: to enjoy where I am and the time I have because home will be home when I get back, and I'll enjoy it more for it. No, what's new is that I've been fantasising about things like water on tap, English TV, a proper cup of tea, my local pub (ah, the Cherry Tree), a good curry, and mum's cooking, amongst others. But right now I'm actually relishing the prospect of settling down tonight in my little one-man room with my book and getting a good night's sleep. (I'm even looking forward to the 26 hour bus journey tomorrow. That's something I'd never have said before South America.)

Although it might be some time before I get back to my little room, as it's been a hell of a long time since I last blogged so there is much to catch up on. I think I ought to do it in instalments.