Apart from it wasn’t really out of cars. Maybe wheelbarrows or Llamas if the seller is rich. The Sunday market at the top of La Paz is not aimed at tourists. It’s a genuine local market which stretches as far as the eye can see. They sold literally everything. Phones, furniture, flooring, used odd socks, unlableled car parts, odd shoes, broken VHS tapes, used mops,  weird street food – even kitchen sinks. The weird thing is, people were buying this utter tut.

I couldn’t help but think as we weaved our way through, ducking under the many low canopies, furiously holding on to our pockets in fear of pick pocket threat that the combined value of my wallet and phone was probably what a local might earn in a lifetime.

The homes around here were no bigger or more sturdy than an allotment shed. The only access to the city was via steps or cablecar. Far too steep for roads. Crazy place.

I would have liked to have got some more photos but Cholitas will come rushing up for money or worse if they catch you. All photos of people and stalls are on the sly.