We reached Yunguyo, the border town to Peru, and walked across the border through the big archway. Without the huge cultural and geographical changes you get when arriving by air we only felt a slight sense of relief Bolivia was behind us and anticipation of Peruvian adventures to come.

It suddenly struck us on the bus towards Puno that we only had a pocket full of Bolivianos and not 2 soles to rub together. Luckily the bus conductor knew of a hotel and what`s more he paid for our taxi there! Sensing a whacking commission, no sooner had we dropped our bags off our shoulders Roberto had not only sold us tickets for our tour to the floating islands but also our onward bus tickets to Arequipa, tourist class, posh!

We soon fathomed Peru was a different kettle of fish to Bolivia as we fought our way through the legions of gringos and then gaped open mouthed at the 18 soles pizzas! 3 pounds for a pizza what a rip off!

An early start to catch a ferry for our Lago Titicaca tour and as we set off into the blue blue water of the lake, an armada of tourist boats following in our wake, the floating islands came into view. Thankfully there are 400 floating islands, so each tourist boat visited a different one.

What a strange sensation walking on the island was, a floaty spongey type of affair. After a demonstration of how the islands are made and anchored (otherwise they would float off to Bolivia) an islander latched on to us and proudly showed us round her reed built hut, complete with reed bed. We felt sorry for them in their basic living conditions until we noticed the solar panels and cable TV. We felt slightly obliged to buy some local handicrafts especially as the lady had taken the time to master the pronounciation of our names!

We declined a ride in the torta boat and as our boat pulled away to the sound of the local women singing Kumbaya you couldnt help feeling sorry that they had to go through that every day, although we are sure the TV eases the monotany!

2.5hrs across a small portion of the lake, barely seeing a coastline, we arrived at Tequile. We walked to the top of the island just as the dancing preists and their entourage paraded into the village square. My, what luck, what a coincidence! Resplendant in their traditional dress the photo opportunity was taken and another fried trout lunch was had. We headed back to the boat with the path lined with kids who would eagerly let you photograph them in exchange for a sole. We had a leisurely cruise back up on deck heading for the burning reed beds and Puno beyond.

The next morning at the bus station we watched crest fallen as the other tourists climbed on their gleaming, sleeper bed equipped Cruz Del Sur bus cursing at Roberto for booking us on the chicken bus and obviously pocketing the difference. We will be booking out own tickets from now on!