Eleanor Hughes discovers that in Bolivia's capital city, time runs backwards.

The dim, yellow glow of streetlights, shadowed streets and peeling posters on graffitied walls make me feel like I've stepped on to the deserted set of a sinister movie.

It's not just the cold that makes me shiver. It's not somewhere I want to wander alone. Morning brings action — colour and people — and I discover a La Paz with steep streets steeped in stories.

Meeting Marisol, the walking tour guide, in leafy, green San Pedro Plaza I wonder if the seediness seeps from behind the white concrete

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