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It's been a while since I've written anything on this blog and I have to confess that I left Lake Titicaca a while ago and a lot more has happened since. However, to remain chronalogical it's about time I talk about Copacabana and Puno, both towns on Lake Titicaca, the former in Bolivia and the latter Peru. I am also travelling with 2 guysI met in La Paz. An English (Kevin) and a Scott (Mark) both of whom are easy company and def like a few beers! When we all realised we are heading in the same direction, it makes sense for us to travel together.
The bus from La Paz to Copacabana was 4 hours so nothing really too bad if you discount the fact that the three of us were incredibly hungover after a large night out in La Paz the night before. It seemed only fitting that we gave ourselves a good send off although kind of regretted it as the bus slowly filled with travellers, locals, hundreds of children, garden fences and cushions for some reason and literally bounced it's way along the unpaved roads. It took an hour to leave La Paz as it stopped in every possible location picking up people and squeezing them on board. Although this was pretty unpleasant, one friend who had also been out with us the night before had a 20 hour bus to the jungle so my sympathy really had to lie with him!
After 3 hours we had to disembark, buy a ticket for an open topped boat, cross part of Lake Titicaca in the pouring rain (I was drenched by the time we reached the other side) whilst our bus crossed separately ( I always find this worrying, it had all our belongingson it). Whilst waiting for it on the other side, I treated myself to some yummy street food which after 10 minutes totally disagreed with me and by the time we reached Copacabana I thought I was going to die. Seriously. The thing with street food is that it's just so good, it's cheap but it's always a massive gamble and really shouldn't be consumed before any long journey. Lesson learned!
Copacabana is what you can see in the picture. It's small, has an amazing cathedral but on the whole is nothing spectacular aside from it's location on Lake T. and there's not really much to talk about. Having read my travel guide and deciding to be different, I suggested a 17km hike to a town called Yampupata where you can then hire a boat to the Isla del Sol (an island on the lake that was sacred to the incas, inti meaning sun which was an instrumental part of their worship. There is another smaller island called Isal de la luna or Moon Island that you can also visit). The hike was classed as easy and restaurants are to be found at Yampupata to reward the efforts so off we went. Considering Lake T is at over 4000 metres and the hike was very hilly, it makes me think that the author of the guide as prob never done it before. It wasn't hard but if I was a fat 40 something tourist I think it may have killed me. On arrival at Yampupata, 3.5 hours after leaving (which is pretty good time) we were starving. Turns out Yampupata is barely a town and prob better described as a village with one restaurant.... and it was closed! Plan B: get aboat to the island and eat there.
I'm assuming there are people who live in Yampupata however we found 2. One young lad who appeared to be the sales man of the boating operation and one old man who looked like he had seen better days and who turned out to be the one who was going to row us 2 miles to the Isla. 45 mins later, we arrive at some port. Turns out the restaurants were up this huge hill and if we started walking there we would miss the last boat to Copacabana. I think what happened is that he was exhausted and abandoned us at the closest shore. We had no choice but to wait for the boat back and that took 2.5 hours. It's one of those situations where you wonder if you will ever eat again. Slighlty dramatic but it had been a long day!
From Copacabana to Puno, an easy border crossing although slightly frustrating for Mark as he was only granted 30 days stay permit whereas Kevin and I got 90. I joked it was because he filled his form in wrong but really, it's prob exactly why. Its the immigration person's idead of having a bit of fun I'm sure but wouldn't you if that was your job?!
Puno is a much bigger town. A little grotty but it has character and an amazing chinese restaurant that is literally dirt cheap. I tried to leave the waitress a tip and she looked at me as I had 2 heads and continued to stare until I had actually left the place.
We took a day tour to the reed islands which as they sound, are literally made of reeds and people actually live on them. Apparantly they suffer rheumatism and arthritis because of the cold and damp. I don't think I'd like to live there! We then went to this island called Taquille which is about 2.5 hours off land and is famous for textiles and weavings. Their textile workshop is a UNESCO world heritage site which is really quite shocking in itself and makes you ask the question "really? This is protected?" It's a concrete building with textiles in it, the kind you see everywhere in South America. I can't even give it points for friendliness because I walked in there to look round, got in one of the weavers way by accident who looked really quite pissed off about it and then, feeling rather unwelcome, left!
The boat journey home was pretty interesting as a storm hit us and one minute I was looking face down into the bottom of the Lake, the next I was looking at the sky. Being hearty sea fearing Brits, I lay back trying to pretend I was safe and put the ipod on, Mark was checking out in the lonely planet our next moves and Kevin slept through it. Meanwhile, the Argentines were squeeling, pulling at their life jackets and I think maybe even a couple were sick. I was happy to be back on firm land, although after a day of travelling, was not looking forward to the night bus to Cusco. Turns out it was cancelled due to a farmers strike and road blocks so in typical "we have to kill and there are lots of bars here style", we went out drinking. This turned into a club where we were practically the only people apart from a gay man trying to chat up Mark and at 3am we finally made it back to the hotel. 6.30am, comatosed and in need of sleep, I get a phone call from the travel agent saying we had to get on our bus and that the roads were clear. Now I don't remember taking this call because I was still drunk from the night before, but amazingly not only did I hear it in Spanish with an earplug still lodged in my ear, I actually relayed the information to my fellow travellers, and we were able to pack and get to the bus station within half an hour before the bus left. Once again, a bus journey on a hangover and this time it was 8 hours. NEVER again!!!
So, this brings me up to Cusco. Although I am actually leaving Cusco tonight (sober) I have already written too much and will update the Machu Pichu trek and the nights at Mama Africas another time.
Hope you are all well and once again, forgive my spelling - grammer and whatever else is bad about this because it really is hard on these keyboards and I also have about 5 sets of eyes willing me off this computer so they can have their go!!
Georgie xxx
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