La Paz is different from the other big cities we've seen, there is no 'shopping centre', no electrical stores, it's all one big cash based sprawling open air market. We'd found this sprawling market on an walkabout, selling everything from toilets to screwdrivers, g-strings to tailored suits but we'd not found anything electrical and replacing my camera was high on my to do list.
The absence of shopping centre had made it difficult trying to source a replacement of any notable spec but with the assistance of our new guide, directing me to a part of the market where tourists are scarce, deals are done in cash, don't ask where the camera came from and there'll be no receipt... in one corner of an alley I was able to find the same camera as I'd smashed; not cheap - it's stolen from another tourist - but a satisfactory result.
With this last job completed we have finally left La Paz behind, we won't miss it. Bolivia is the poorest country in South America and so far a hard place to like, or relax. The rest of our Bolivian tour should be brighter - and the blog entries more pictorially illustrated.
A monstrous overnight 12 hour bus journey - during which the driver showed his credentials for the forthcoming Dakar rally, partly following the route and soaking the luggage hold in red, wet mud - has brought us south to the Salt Flats and what seems to be the worlds biggest mirror.
Everything here is made of salt, the manufacture of which is simple: man digs up salt from lake bed, dries it, sells it, there is no cleaning or purification.
In 2 days time the Dakar rally will rip through here, circling the salt flats, it's going to be very tough going, even our experienced drive is carving a new route as the path is flooded, wheels spin in the clay and all but impassable. The bus lurches from side to side as the massive tread looks for traction.
We head out across this amazing salt flat, once joined to Lake Titicaca this expanse has nowhere to drain and hence dried out leaving the scaly salt crust behind, it's only thin and occasional holes remind you it's like a suspended floor above a cavern of more saltwater.
This is still wet season and recent rains have topped up the massive basin.
The horizon is endless, small islands floating in space, the perspectives are vast, eyes searching infinity for distinction between sky and earth and at the far end is a thunderous storm, fork lighting frequently striking the ground.
We're driving across this lake in an old military personnel carrier, improvising unusual lunch spot
Your mind is tricked into thinking this is a sea or ocean and if we don't get a move on the tide will come in. Of course it never will.
There is so much salt here it cannot all dissolve in the water which is at saturation; the most salty the water could ever be. It crusts over your legs and flip flops almost instantly
Curious to know how this tastes I lick my fingers, its rank and the instant drying effect sends me reeling back to the coach for my Coke. Quick swig and I remember I premixed it 50:50 with rum (by far the cheapest spirit here). I'd adopted this approach because possession of alcohol on busses is illegal and searches are airport like; body scanners, passport checks and bag searches to be cleared before boarding. Mixing it means we don't have to finish it all before leaving town and it passes inspection of being a bottle of Coke - soft drinks are permitted.
In some areas the lake is dry and we can try to capture the vastness of the space.
The islands in this lake are coated in cactus and if you're too hydrated there is nowhere to hide yourself if you need to dilute the lake a little.
Tonight we're staying in the salt hotel, even the bed is made of salt
Ok, 'hotel' is an exaggeration but it was surprisingly warm night even if the rain threatened to dissolve everything around you. Next morning the clouds are more dramatic and the salt flats are truly incredible
Oh Bolivia, you may have redeemed yourself!
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