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Chaotic. Polluted. Ugly. An unplanned, messy urbal sprawl. Yet somehow intriguing.... Welcome to La Paz, capital of Bolivia! So far, most cities I have visited have had at least a vague gridlike system to their streets. There has been some vague notion of planning to the layout. But not with La Paz. With this city, the layout must have been designed by a blind man on crack. Or maybe by someone dipping a spider in ink and letting it run across a page. The very centre does have some sense to it, but venture further away and you enter a crazy network of roads that twist and wind around each other, heading up steep hills and plunging down again in a stomach-turning kind of way. Cars and buses are continually chugging and grinding their way around, belching thick smoke from their poor, overworked engines. And people seem to build anywhere here. It is very hilly, and if there is a random crop of rock or hill, someone will fit a lonesome house on there between roads! And did I mention that La Paz is the highest capital city in the world? Well it is. At a height of 3,600m, it isalso one of the world´s most fire resistant cities. The altitude means there is about a third less oxygen compared to sea level, making it hard for a small flame to sustain itself.There are very few sights in La Paz. Few beautiful or historic buildings, no museums or attractions. But it makes for an interesting afternoon just wandering and observing Bolivian city life. There are shoeshine boys who look menacing in black ski-masks. But don´t worry, they just wear the masks because they find it a demeaning profession, and would feel disgraced if recognised. There are friendly ladies on street corners selling hot homemade food, of which I sampled everything I could find. My favourite was a warm pattie made from mashed yam and shredded beef. Delicious, and only 6 pence! There was the "Witches Market", where an array of products were on offer, such as dried llama fetus, dead armadillos and assorted powders and charms. (although this wasn´t the conventional witchcraft, with cackling old hags around a bubbling cauldron. Bolivian witchcraft is more about appeasing malevolent or benevolent spirits. For example, the dried llama fetus can be buried as an offering to "Pachamama", the Earth Goddess. Althoughburying a dried fetus is for the poor people, or just those who are tight with money. If you can afford it, a full live llama sacrifice is the way forward!)Whilst in La Paz, I simply HAD to visit San Pedro Prison. I had read a book about it in England, and it was utterly fascinating. San Pedro is quite simply the most bizarre and unique prison in the world. When you are put in there, you aren´t automatically entitled to a cell. You don´t even get a blanket. These are things which have to be paid for. The cells are rented by the prisoners, and depending on what you can afford, you might be sharing a boxroom with four other prisoners, or you might have a luxury apartment with ensuite bathroom, cable TV and a view over the city. To earn money in the prison, you have to fnd smoe kind of job or niche. You might run errands, wash people's clothes, mend shoes etc. The prisoners "cells" are not locked. Their wives, children and pets can come and liev with them. The prisoners can even pay the guards and leave the prison for a night onthe town, provided they are back to dawn. The prison is like a small city, complete with restaurants, churches, pool halls, classrooms and markets. The book I read was about a British man in his twenties who got caught for drug trafficking, and thrown inside San Pedro. He spends his first night shivering on a courtyard floor, as he struggles to understand this bizarre prison system. He eventually finds his niche by bribing the guards and then giving "unofficial" guided tours of the prison to backpackers. He also discovers that cocaine is the number one export from San Pedro, being manufactured in the prison by the inmates! And the prison cat has developed a habit, from being too close to people smoking crack pipes. If you want to read more, the book is called Marching Powder by Rusty Young. And don´t worry, I´ve given nothing away that you can´t read on the back cover.I was really hoping to get a tour inside the prison. But recently the prisoners went on strike, saying they were not a zoo. As my travelling companion Steve said "well, they should have thought about that before they got banged up". Even so, Ithought it might be possible to get into the prison. Money talks over here, and a large roll of US dollars would get you through the front door. But I think risking the wrath of the displeased inmates is enough of a deterrent not to try!While I was in La Paz, I stumbled upon a street festival one night. In fact, it was hard to miss it, because it was right outside our hotel! Latin America has a phenomenal number of festivals. They like any excuse to party over here. Which is fine by me! This fiesta had a live brass band and drums, plenty of crazy costumes, ad fireworks being let off on the street. The others went to bed, but I decided to join in the festivities. I was the only Gringo there, but everyone was really friendly, and I was given a few drinks by the ladies. But a while later, the porter from the hotel came out and advised me to come in. He said it would get dangerous soon, for a Gringo. I had no idea what he meant, but I took his advice and went in. Shame!