We have departed the loving arms of Peru and have entered the cold embrace of Bolivia; a country where the daytime sun can scorch your skin, even at 10 degrees and the nighttime temperatures can plummet to below minus 20; where women walk around with bowler hats perched precariously on their heads, wearing giant patterned skirts and often carrying what looks like over 200 kilos on their backs; where the jungle truly meets the mountains; and where finding vegetarian food sometimes seems like my only purpose in life.
We crossed the border shortly after leaving poohole, sorry, Puno. Immigration entailed us walking from one side of the road to the other, passing under a welcome to Bolivia sign and having our passports stamped in a shed. There was no scanning of bags, fingerprints taken or curly questions. Our bus picked us up on the other side and we carried on our merry way to Copacabana, the first stop on our tour through Bolivia.
I'm guessing its a church, or a cathedral, or a nunnery...
Copacabana is a small town on the southern shores of Lake Titicaca. Unlike Puno, we instantly felt welcome. Bolivians greeted us with smiling faces, the streets were filled with restaurants and bars that all seemed to specialise in trucha, or trout - apparently the lake is filled with the stuff. Served in a multitude of ways,it is the most prized fish in Bolivia. Copacabana also serves as the gateway to Isla Del Sol, the largest island on Lake Titicaca and supposed birthplace of the Incas.
As we had arrived fairly late into town there was only time for a quick look around before chowing down on some trout cooked in garlic butter and several Pecenas, the local Bolivian brew. At first light we had to be up and down by the harbour in order to catch a boat to the island of the sun.
On arrival to the jetty we were met by 100 fellow tourists all vying for a seat on a tiny boat, just a little larger than an inflatable dingy. Interesting. Somehow we all managed to clamber aboard, with several poor souls having to brave the icy temperatures on the 'top deck'. By 8.30 am we were off, cruising, or rather spluttering along the crystal clear waters of the lake while the inside of our boat slowly filled up with diesel fume. Who knew carbon monoxide poisoning would be an added freebie... ? We sailed to the north of the island, as we were staying in the south and wanted to hike from top to bottom in the same day.
Even though Isla Del Sol sits on the freezing waters of Lake Titicaca, and at an elevation of nearly 4000 metres, its days are long and hot due to its high altitude and constant clear blue skies. It's not called island of the sun for nothing! This juxtaposes the absolutely freezing nights where the temperature can drop 40 degrees. Thankfully we were only staying one of them, especially as the island doesn't have access to hot water...
As we began to walk, the topography of the island revealed beautiful landscapes that seemed to take us through several continents in just a few kilometres. Coastal lagoons that wouldn't look out of place on a postcard from the Greek Islands hugged the shoreline, while Incan ruins could easily be mistaken for Greek or Roman structures from bygone eras, adding a distinctly Mediterranean feel to the place. Moving inland, hills and rocky outcrops resembled Scottish highlands, while the flora felt distinctly Australian with varieties of eucalypts towering over the landscape. All of this with a backdrop of snowy Andean mountains that could be seen on the horizon. In addition, there are no cars, which gave Isla Del Sol an even more romantically rustic and historical feel. It was like stepping back in time to a place I'm not sure when or where.
Don't be fooled. The water's freezing!
Island transport
Ais looks for the local pub
Moonrise over Isla Del Luna
Obligatory water, sun and sky pic...
The hike turned out to be harder than we anticipated, which I don't think Miss Ais was too chuffed about, especially after just completing the Inca trail and believing that most of the strenuous exercise was behind us... It certainly was no Dead Woman's Pass, but it was definitely up there with 'Peruvian flat' and well over 10 kms in length; something neither of was anticipating.
After much huffing and puffing we eventually reached our destination by late afternoon and checked into a rather chilly hostel in the island's only town, Yumani. As the sun went down, so did the temperature and at one point I was wearing every single item of clothing I had brought with me. There was only one thing we could do, buy a litre and a half of Chilean red wine, sold in one handy super-large bottle and for the bargain price of $7.50 and choose one of the numerous pizza restaurants this little town had to offer - Bolivians LOVE their pizza, and I've never seen so many eateries offering exactly the same menu in such a small radius. Still, pizza for dinner means pizza for lunch the next day, so I was doubly happy.
We retired for the evening with full tummies and red wine coursing through our veins to keep us warm. By 10 am the next day we were back on the boat to Copacabana and heading to our next destination, the Bolivian capital and highest city in the world, the great La Paz.
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