The
White City
After
twisting and turning through the dry, brown hills, my taxi turned a corner and
before me was a white wall with green words that read, “Welcome to Sucre.” In front of the sign were the skeletal
remains of someone’s car. There was
nothing left. I was beginning to wonder
what I had gotten in to. Was this the
ruins of a once great city, or something else?
The
hills of Chuquisaca are beautiful, tan and brown, dry from lack of rain. From the plane, I saw a valley that made me
think of the Grand Canyon; the valley scrapped by Flood, thousands of years
ago. There are houses on top of ridges,
but I didn’t see roads. How did they get
there? How do they live in such a remote
place with so little water?
My
first impression of Sucre was the brown adobe and brick houses that lined the
highway entering the city. They were
simple, places of poverty. So much brown
blending with the dry earth.
Then
it happened!
We
turn a corner and we are in the Plaza of the Recoleta, the original settlement
of Sucre, about 480 years ago. I was
looking down on the White City. So much
white! Red tiled roofs. My taxi driver said the Spaniards arrived
here in 1538. As we drive along, he
points to buildings and tells me dates that predate Texas by 200 years. I am lost with the age of the city and so
much white. I would think of bleached
bones, except so many doors are open, revealing the traditional colonial
courtyards and patios, lush with flowers.
My
tour guide from the next day would tell me it was not called the White City
because there is so much white, but because the original Spanish founders were
from Andalusia, in Spain. I have been
there and remember the white cities of Ronda, Arco de la Frontera, and Medina
Sidonia. They built this city to remind
them of home. And yes, it looks like Andalusia.
I
stayed at the Hostal de Su Merced, two blocks from the Plaza. I gasped as I enter the place. It is what I have always dreamed of for my
house. There is a patio in the center of
the hotel with stairs going up in various directions, everything open to the
central patio. Rooms open through French
doors. Cascades of roses and
bougainvillea greet my eyes. After
settling in to my room, I climb the stairs to find roof top terraces that give
me a stunning view of the White City.
I am
hungry so I go searching for food. My
pastor and his wife recommended the Joy Ride Café, an eclectic little
place. I end up having three lunches
there over my stay in Sucre. Matilde, another
friend, texted me to try another restaurant just doors away for dinner. I ate well my three days in Sucre.
Before
taking my siesta, so I can explore all afternoon, I made a quick turn to the
Plaza. I’m in love with Bolivia again.
I
can’t sleep. I have to go explore!
No comments:
Post a Comment