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Well hello Peru!
We start the second part of the trip by doing what we do best... drinking. Pisco (a kind of rum tasting liquor) is the national drink of Peru and mixed with lime, sugar and egg whites creates a delightful little cocktail called a Pisco Sour. Although served throughout Bolivia, we thought it necessary to wait until we were in its home country before sampling and they did not disappoint (although by numero 3, were starting to get a tad on the sickly side.)
The next day we woke early for an island hopping tour around lake titicaca which was soo much better than the tour we took in Copa, Copacabana. We first stopped off at one of the lakes floating islands where we were greeted by lots of singing ladies in brightly coloured skirts and were given a brief explanation of how the islands are made by the islands 'president' (who looked about 12 and apparently already had 2 wives...) Afterwards we sailed for about three hours, got very hungry ("excuse me, do you serve snacks on this tour?") learnt about 'gringo hunters' and finally arrived at Taquille island where we watched some traditional dancing (again by people in bright clothing), laughed at men in silly hats and at last had lunch which was some amazing trout, fresh from the lake itself.
The next day we rise early (easy after our 'slumber party' the night before which consisted of 3 pizzas and ramsays kitchen nightmares- crazy, we know) and board the bus for Arequipa. Having previously slummed it on 22 hour buses, we thought this 6 hour journey would be a walk in the park. But of course, these are South American buses. 20 minutes into the ride, Becky joins me in the 'let's puke out of a bus window' club due to what we think is altitude sickness. Then, when trying to get round a corner that other drivers may not have attempted, the bus reverses into something, much to the despair of the locals who were clearly in a rush to get somewhere so started banging and kicking the windows in an attempt to speed up the drivers conversation with the police. A couple of hours after this drama, another policeman boards the bus and tells us we'd be held up for about an hour...we're still not really sure of the reason for this but again the locals start going mental. And to top it all off, a disabled church goer then boards the bus, chooses to take a perch right next to me and starts preaching so loud (an spitting so violently) that even my hardcore gangster music, turned right up, could not block him out. All in all another eventful journey which again offered several 'character building' (as mummy matile would call them) opportunities.
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