Back from Tarabuco with photos
We headed out to the Sunday handicrafts market in Tarabuco this morning, driven the 60-odd km in a Quechua taxi. Once there, John, who had fine memories of a visit three years ago, immediately remarked that it seemed far less busy than he remembered. We wandered the market, which was meant to have some fine textiles on offer, with an increasing sense of disappointment as we realised that the market has shrunk significantly in size and now all the vendors seemed to have the same mass-produced, uninspiring crap on offer. Not to mention the number of persistent, repetitive, and downright goddamned annoying street hawkers and beggars.
Our only bright spot of the morning was sitting down for a mate de coca at a no-name cafe on the square run by a very friendly young woman who had her two kids running around underfoot. As I sat down it became apparent that I was sitting in the "road" the young boy, Ruben-Martin, was using for his toy truck. So I ended up passing the truck back and forth with him to the point of exhaustion, until he decided my camera was a better toy. He was over the moon to see himself on the camera screen. Soon enough I was taking pictures of the whole family.
Afterwards we decamped back to Sucre and had the taxi driver drop us off at a posh restaurant, El Huerto, that was meant to be good for Sunday lunch. As we entered we passed the Bishop of Sucre (apparently) and once inside the very swish garden setting, complete with picnic tables and umbrellas, it was clear we were among the Great and the Good of Sucre. A jug of Pimm's would not have looked out of place. Lots of big sunglasses and air kissing. But the food was ace, and still cheap (under 200 Bs, or 20 quid, for the three of us). Siesta after but I am out now for a final dinner with John and Lisa.