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Day after Inca trail, started with another birthday breakfast cake for Dan. He couldn't disguise his dismay as the rich gooey chocolate gateau was presented to him, which quickly spread to the rest of us too, little sleep, too much celebrating, did not have us in the mood for cake. We stoically requested just a sliver.
Moving on, we caught the bus from Cuzco to Puno. The long distance bus stopped to pick up locals on the way and often they travelled in the aisles for hours. An Aussie family was on the bus too, 5 of them travelling, but they'd actually bought 6 bus tickets. I thought it was a bit harsh when they objected to a poor woman sitting in their spare seat, luckily she didn't understand the concept of them having bought an extra ticket and not using it and I was feeling inclined to translate so she sat there anyway.
Apart from arriving two and a half hours late, the journey went without incident and we hit the sack early, ready for Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve started with a thrill, as we waited for our transfer to Puno port for our day on Lake Titicaca. 5 tuts, tuts showed up and we raced each other through the early morning deserted streets, squeeling as we overtook each other or took tight bends way too fast. Alice and my driver however had peaked too early and we ended dead last.
Lake Titicaca is the highest Navigable lake in the world at 3812m, and it's HUGE, biggest in South America and the sun had come out for us as we launched. We had been due to spend the night with on one of the Islands with a family, but as it was Christmas Eve, we weren't able to. The first Islands we visited were Uros, which are actually made of floating reeds. The islands are divided into family groups, which can be joined or seperated in the case of marriage and divorce! If they have a big party and need some more land they just ask their neighbour who pulls up their islands anchor and comes over for the event. It was so springy on the reeds that it didn't feel walking around at any kind of pace felt hazardous and it wasn't too surprising that all the ladies we saw had developed a kind of wierd round shape living on an island only about 20 metres radious with the surface like a trampoline. They had the most exquisite colourful costumes though and I quickly zipped though most of a memory card. We were treated to a demonstration on how they made the Island and then went on a ornately decorated boat made of reeds to a neighbours island.
Then it was on to lunch at another island and back to Puno for the evening. We attempted to make a night of it as it was the Eve, but noone else was out to Alice and I withdrew to our hotel to watch Bend it like Beckham and just as we were settling down to sleep at midnight the air was filled with the noise of firecrackers and out the windows we could see the whole of Puno exploding (more impressive noise-wise than visually I might add though, it was hardly Sydney at New year). Apparently the locals have a big Christmas Eve dinner with their family and then let off the fire crackers and then go out partying, but warmly tucked up in our hotel, we resisted going out again and decided to save ourselves for Christmas day.
We had an exclusive breakfast at the hotel (apparently the other guests were told they wouldnt be served breakfast on Christmas day) complete with Secret santa and christmas tunes from someones Ipod, then it was a morning movie of Pirates Carribean 3 and an exclusive lunch in a restaurant (tourists kept trying to come in and were told they couldnt, including the Aussie family of 5, how special were we! The afternoon was given up to boisterous drinking games in the hotel and that was my Christmas Peruvian style.
Boxing day was an arduous and hungover days travelling to Bolivia. Farewell Peru, I´d spent almost a month there and we debated whether we´d still be able to get Inca Cola, play Punch Buggy (almost an addiction for us, Peru is overrun with VW Beetles and we´d weedled away hours, playing Punch Buggy, basically a game where the first to spot one and call out the colour, got to punch everyone else. LOOK its a lot more entertaining than it sounds, well I guess you had to be here). We hit the border and found the Border officials Peru side more interested in the Arsenal-Chelsea game they were watching, then walked over to the Bolivian side where some kind of Oompa lumpa, patriotic Tuba music greeted us. Phew we thought, our destination was in sight, little did we know that the bus then seemed to turn into a sort of tour. Accustomed to being lucky to get a 5 minute toilet stop on a 6 hour journey suddenly we were stopping at a Exchange house, to swap our Soles for Bolivianos, having a 90min lunch break in the lakeside town of Copacobana (veggie lasagne for me- bad choice, wont go into it) We got into a different bus for about 20 mins and then were told we had to get out and take a boat across a river whilst the bus crossed separately. Finally we arrived at La Paz and the tour bus came into its own. La Paz is in a bowl and as we hit the lip and stopped to take photos we were astounded by the by the view. Here´s where my inability to portray scenery leaves me frustrated, so lets just say you´ll have to wait until I´ve stitched 4 photos together to get an idea of the panoramic vision of La Paz. It´s the highest Capital city in the world at 3,600 - 4058 metres. Planes actually have to ascend to land!Not a beautiful city at close range, it makes up for it with the indigenous women´s dress. Women sit on doorsteps with a miniscule range of wares to sell yet are adorned with unique shirts, shawls and hats worth hundreds of dollars. Apparently they are encouraging their daughters to follow western fashion in order to climb the social scale. I can understand it, but what a shame. First activity for us was Mountain Biking down ¨The World´s most dangerous road¨, or ¨Death Road¨, neither name particularly comforting. A descent from 4670 to 1300 metres.Signing a waver saying we were adequately insured had Alice running to call England to extend her policy for ¨a touch of mountain biking¨. Carring assurances that we had the best bikes, protective gear, guides in town we embarked from the highest point on the tarmac section warm up. It was amazing, flying down the mountainside wind trying to blow through my helmet to my hair. Then for the uphill section, hah I thought, I´ve been acclimatizing for weeks to altitude and just done the Inca trial but as everyone slowed to a snails pace we found that those getting off to push were actually going at the same speed as us still pedaling our hearts out. The fog and rain made seeing the top impossible but I made it, very bedraggled and cold (again!), yet triumphant.After stopping for a snack we divided into 3 groups, slow (mine), medium, and dickhead (seriously these guys - had the dangerous combination of big mouths and latent death wishes)This was the serious part, Death road, no longer used for vehicles as the new road had opened (when the government finally realized that a couple of vehicles a month going over cliffs 100´s of metres deep wasn´t really on). Unpaved, very narrow and with the aforementioned treacherous sides, I got down the 2.5 hour ride with a mixture of fear, excitement and an not insignificant amount of adrenalin. My hand hurt for days afterwards from clenching the handlebar.We celebrated in exhilaration with a beer or tow at the bottom, glad the danger was over. Alas that wasn´t the case.The bus trip back started badly with us having to blow up a flat tyre. That sorted we started the 3.5 hour trip back on the new road. We climbed into the clouds and suddenly there was zero visability, the windscreen fogged up but it didn´t have any impact as we and by we I mean us and THE DRIVER couldn´t see anything. Yet he drove on, albeit slower.Vehicles of all shapes and sizes emerged out of nowhere coming the other way and we gibbered to each other, and the boys, bless em, kept us distracted by alternate farting. Our tyre finally gave up, so it was to the side of the road to change it with the baldest one you´ve ever seen and then thankfully the rest of the trip was uneventful and we gratefully disembarked the minibus safe and sound.So the tour is finished, 6 weeks and some incredible places, nice hotels, great restaurants and amazing people (thanks guys for a great trip if you read this), plus heaps and heaps of laughs. Those of us that stayed an extra night made it count drinking, dancing in a Pena till dawn (or in some cases until they had to leave for the airport) and all too soon I was alone, and not sure I was ready for the proper backpacking experience alone!
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