Overland miles: 12772 Bus hours: 367.5 Empanadar 79
Regular readers of PFB will have noticed a distinct lack of emphasis on the ‘Bs’. In fact, the last time I even showed you my breakfast I was in a fruit market in Colombia. Since then, I hear you scoff, you have been to four more countries, and I have not seen as much as a smear of jam on these pages, Prawns For Breakfast. Now I may come for the witty yet enlightening insights to life on the road in Latin America, but I stay for the close-ups of your breakfasts. How can I like your posts or leave a comment to say how well written and entertaining they are if I don’t get any breakfasts? Show me the breakfasts, you so-called food correspondents. I demand satisfaction!
Ok, ok, I hear you people. Standards have slipped on these pages, and you have been short changed. Here it is, here in all its glory is a breakfast in Bolivia, eaten on the border in the Atacama desert.
To be completely honest, since we left Colombia, there has been a distinct drop in the standards of our breakfasts as well (not including the pimping international buffet breakfast we indulged in in Lima during the Christmas holidays), which may explain why I’m not illustrating that South American staple, pancito con queso (er, bread with cheese) and Nescafé on every post. But you have a point – many moons ago I foolishly promised to document breakfast in every country we visited on our trip. And now I must make like UPS and deliver the goods.
So here you go kids, the answer to your burning question, ‘what do they eat for breakfast in Bolivia?’ Mainly breakfast looks pretty much like lunch in Bolivia, just served a few hours earlier, or it’s bread with cheese and some overcooked eggs if you ask nicely. If you have the misfortune to stay in a overpriced party hostel in La Paz, as we did, then it’s tasteless cold pancakes and coffee that you have to reheat yourself in a microwave. (Even slathering them with butter and caramel spread didn’t make them taste any better.)
So as far as I’m concerned I’ve kept up my end of the bargain, and now you can write your little comment or tell all your friends to read this blog, or whatever it was you were going to do. I’m off to watch my football team draw humiliatingly against a team about to be relegated.