Valle de La Luna

Today I decided to venture out of the city to see some famous rock formations called the Valle de La Luna and its accompanying town Mallasa. The Lonely Planet guidebook gives a brief description on how to get there, either by hired taxi for 50+Bs or a minibus for 2.50Bs, which I opted for. After about a 20 minute wait I found a minibus going that far into the county, and it was actually quite a comfortable 30-minute ride. We first drove through Obrajes and Calocota, the two components of the Zona Sur which I had explored briefly in the past, and then crossed the Rio Choqueyapu, the foaming orange river that runs underneath La Paz and dumps out further into the valley. The filthy river is used as an open sewer, and while it’s kept underground in the more populous highlands, in the lowlands it is used, despite its contents of sewage and chemicals, for the irrigation of the crops that make their way back to the city – thus my avoidance of unpeeled fresh fruits and veggies. Once we had crossed the river, the road turned into a rough cobblestoned path that wove through the smaller, further out villages. While the poverty and aridness of the terrain no longer shocks me, it was very strange to see crude brick, windowless houses within twenty feet of huge, elaborate fenced-in mansions. The juxtaposition of the poverty and the wealth is so blatant and shocking.

Although I was a bit confused about when to get off the minibus, I managed to find the place because (contrary to typical Bolivian fashion) it did have a relatively large sign marking it as a tourist destination. The Valle de La Luna was every bit as surreal and wonderful as the guide-book suggested – it was a large, fenced-in area with a narrow trail winding through the rugged, sandy rock formations. The terrain is actually quite desert-like, and it’s considerably warmer because of the pounding sunlight and the lower altitude. There was even a bit of grass speckled in with the numerous cacti jutting out of the sides of cliffs and the occasional flowering bush. The view from some of the higher points was breathtaking, and afforded a view of the mountains, the valley, and even bits of the Zona Sur.



































[A view of the roads near the entrance]

To complete the serenity of the Valle de La Luna, two men were standing on top of the rocks playing wooden flutes and chirangos (traditional Andean instruments that look like mini-guitars). The sound projected all the way across the hiking area, and it made the experience simply perfect. I complemented the guy on his music afterwards, and although he tried to sell me a flute, he did show me how it worked and how he could play 3 octaves with only 8 stops/holes.

[Chirango player perched on the rocks]



The whole trail took about an hour and half because I was taking so many goddamn pictures, and afterwards I decided to trek down to the accompanying village, Mallasa, to find something to eat. I skipped the Zoo because I’ve heard that the animals are quite depressing, and instead found a hole-in-the-wall joint selling nothing more than ice-cream and cheese empanadas – my first experience with these delicious pastries of La Paz.


[The town of Mallasa]