Woke up late. Compared to the last few days that is. We had booked into the same, very nice, hotel that we stayed in before leaving on the trek, and they'd told us the night before we could stay beyond check out time. We took full advantage of their generosity and awarded ourselves a luxurious lie-in.

Eventually we headed out and, despite mild aching in the legs, managed to resist the frequently appearing massage touts in favour of a Lonely Planet recommended cafe that promised full English breakfasts. It turned out to be a fair walk. Up and down several winding streets with plenty of steps that left us glad of the last three days of training.

Our mini-trek ended in a charming little square, where we eventually found a sign that enthusiastically told us our breakfast-location-to-be had expanded and moved to bigger and better premises! They were now in the same street as our hotel :) Ah well, never mind, we found another place and enjoyed a large (and healthier than
intended) breakfast, setting us up for the day.

The day, as it happened, didn't contain that much, as we were in need of some chilling time. We went to the Inca museum, did some shopping (I got an alpaca hat band for which the shop keeper eventually accepted 10 soles, before stitching it on with a piece of lurid neon pink thread for me, touché), enjoyed an Inka Kola overlooking the main square, and went to check on our bus tickets and hotel reservation for Puno later that evening.

Confusion struck in the travel agent! The bus we were told would be available at 6pm (arriving in Puno at 12am) didn't exist! Or rather, there was a bus at 6 if we wanted it, but it was 'not nice'. The alternative was leaving at 10pm, and we decided to go with that. It was actually what we'd planned to do anyway before being tempted by the 6pm possibility.

The bus station, when we arrived later that evening, consisted of a large room lined with bus operator desks and chairs running down the middle for passengers. All of the bus operators were trying to fill their buses for the next trip. All of them were going to the same place, Puno. Imagine being in the middle of a market where all the traders were trying to sell you exactly the same thing. "Puno....Puno Puno Puno...Puno Puno...Puno PUNO...PUNO PUNO PUNO PUNO"

Thankfully we were spared the harrowing decision of which Puno punter to favour. We had our tickets, we got on the bus, I typed this, we fell asleep in our 'full cama' reclining seats....

Matt