La Paz & El Alto

La Paz is not visited: it is climbed. The world's highest capital poured itself into a canyon at 3,650 meters and kept rising into El Alto, and since the streets surrendered to the slope, the city strung cable cars instead: ten lines of gondolas crossing the sky like a hanging metro. Below, the market simmers; above, the Illimani presides with six thousand meters of snow.

The sensible traveller gives day one to acclimatizing at coca-tea pace: the center, Jaén street, the Witches' Market with its offerings. Day two belongs to the sky: the red line up to El Alto for the Thursday or Sunday fair, and sunset from any cabin. Day three, the moon: the Valle de la Luna and its clay needles, half an hour from the noise.

The Guide's honesty: altitude commands — soroche checks no passports: hydrate, walk slowly, save the party for day two —; haggling in the market is conversation, not combat; and El Alto is climbed for the fair and the view, with just enough in your pockets and both eyes open, as at every great fair on Earth.