Island hopping? On Lago Titicaca?! Yes, please!

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Finally the day arrived! The day when we would finally leave Cusco, that is. Whew.

We said goodbye to the touristy colonial streets and our cushy backpacker party hostel and jumped a cab to the terminal. Cusco had been our base for exploring and it felt weird, but refreshing, to leave. Our bus to Puno was with a reputable company, but the bus itself was tired, dirty and worn down. The door was tied on by a string. The windows were cracked or broken. The seats were dirty grey. There was a funny musty smell. It was all mighty grimy.

It’s only 6 hours. It’s only 6 hours. It’s only 6 hours.

Or so we thought. Things don’t tend follow strict time schedules in Peru. When we finally pulled out of the terminal, we cruised down the road out of Cusco. Finally getting out of Cusco! After so long! And…

WHAM!

We slowed to the side of the road to inspect the damage. A tire on the left side of the bus was blown to smithereens! In fact we left half of it down the road and the bare rim had cut into the road. My only thought was: Oh my goddess, we’ll never get out of Cusco.

But we did, eventually.

After a few stops to facilitate the movement of people to towns en route, we pulled into a darkened Puno. Courtesy of LP, we found a nice hostel pretty close to the happening part of town. It was getting late, so our dinner options were limited. We had a pretty disappointing meal before retiring to bed.

Monday, October 20, 2008

After attempting (and failing) to get up at 6am for the Lake Titicaca island departure, we gave ourselves an orientation and preparation day. Plus Nate’s digestive tract was doing the unhappies.



Errands. Errands. Errands. Laundry. Pineapple for host family. The always dependable iPeru office. Food food.





Tuesday, October 21, 2008

5:45am. Out the door by 6:50am. Mototaxi to the muelle.


We try to avoid the hassling vendors, but they keep up with our quick pace. We buy our boat tickets to the islands. Here’s the itinerary:
Puno-> Uros (the floating islands) -> Amantaní -> Taquile -> Puno

Ready? Go!

8:20am departure from Puno to Uros (the floating islands), travel time 30min


We share the boat with colorful, friendly, smiling, Quechua-chatting Indigenous folks. Our common language is Spanish. They patiently wait for us to do our tourist business on the floating islands.



The floating islands were started by the Uros people as a way to isolate themselves from the more aggressive tribes of those times. The islands themselves are made entirely from the roots and reeds of the buoyant totoras, hence floating islands. Pretty much everything in their daily lives is made from the reeds: houses, boats, crafts, food!

We pull into the community of 50 islands and step down from the boat. Squish. Squish!



The “ground” is spongy and our shoes sink into the reeds as we walk. A man sits us down for a quick Uros 101 lesson. Did you know that Titicaca means “grey puma”? Afterwards, we climb a mirador for a view and buy some crafts. And off we go!



10am departure from Uros to Amantaní, travel time 3 hours

It’s a long boat journey. We station ourselves at the front of the boat until the wind and the sun drive us inside. Three hours is a long time for a boat ride. I try to sleep.

My stomach starts doing the unpleasantness… oh no. NOT AGAIN.

Stay the afternoon and night on Amantaní with a family

Sitting on Amantaní’s dock are a few men spinning wool. Our boat pulled up and we stepped uneasily onto shore. We dodged looks from locals and followed the boat driver up dirt paths leading to clay houses. The boat driver’s wife, Elisabeth, met us part way and led us to the house.




Our room was on the second floor and contained two creeky beds, a table, a handful of chairs and two windows that sported awesome views over the lake. There was no electricity in the whole house.



Lunch was prepared over burning leaves and consisted of soup, half an omelet, and a host of boiled lumpy roots. The roots still sported dirt, but were cooked so we ate them without fear. The best part of the meal was the mate de muña, supposed to help stomach problems and digestion. Perfect!

After lunch we decided to go for a walk. The boat driver and his wife drew us a map in the dirt of how to reach Pachi Tata and Pachi Mama, the shrines on the highest peaks of the island of the Earth Father and Mother. On our walk we passed children recently out from school, exchanged buenas tardes with countless locals, meEEeehed back at the sheep, and almost got lost.

The altitude is very apparent here. We slowly make our way up the stone path. The sun is fierce and forces us to tap deeper and deeper into our water bottle.

As we climb, the view opens up. Lago Titicaca extends its majestic blue waves out in all directions. We can see Taquile and the Peruvian coast on one side and just barely make out the Bolivian side. The view looks unreal. We take a bunch of pictures. The panorama ones are hit or miss.

I don’t know what I was expecting for the shrines themselves, but it wasn’t crumbling rock structures with padlocks leading into them. Oh well, the view was well worth it! First up to one peak, then the other. Whew. There’s hardly any air up here!

Amantaní is mainly an agricultural island. There are many tiered terraces for crops, a technique used by the Incas. It was really awesome to see how self-contained the island was. All the electricity used (and there were some houses that had it) was produced on the island. True some food is imported from mainland, but a lot of it is grown right there. There were no cars or any motorized vehicles for that matter. The mode of transportation of choice was feet. The overall vibe was tranquil and relaxed. There was no rushing to get anywhere. Everything and everyone happened at their own pace.

On the way down, we descended with the sun. We passed the afternoon wave of tourists and watched the locals set up portable markets in hopes of coaxing a sol or two from the jiggling pockets. We preferred to watch a soccer game.



We descended on the beach for sunset. The sky changed to a marvelous shade of purple, and the water reflection responded. It was nearly dark by the time we made it home.



Amelia, Anderson, and Michael were sitting outside our room on the stairs when we got back. Amelia, the oldest, couldn’t have been older than 10. We showed them our headlamp, which was an entertainment highlight along with our camera. As Amelia sat peeling totoras, Nate opened the floodgates with a question. Do you like music?

Floodgates? Oh yes. From there, the situation spiraled out of control and into hours of singing and dancing. We performed none of it, but rather watched, laughed and applauded songs in both Spanish and Quechua. Stomping ensued.

Just when we thought we could take no more, the children tired before us. Dinner came and was very welcomed. We slept very well bundled in our jackets, pants, and wool blankets.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

We were up without an alarm before 6am. Pancake breakfast and last pictures before we said goodbye to our family, and the outhouse.

We were told that we were going to join a tour group for the day. Oh great. Just what we wanted, to be in a pack of tourists listening to a guide. This is precisely why we did NOT join a tour to begin with.

8am departure from Amantaní to Taquile, travel time 1 hour




The ride Taquile was uneventful, just took a while.





Three hours on Taquile

Started with an ascent to the main plaza. We passed all the tourists in the group, oxen that almost speared me, amazing views, and little shacks. I wish I could have enjoyed it, but my stomach was not doing well. I was very happy when we arrived at the plaza.

Tourism has sculpted Taquile’s Plaza de Armas. There are restaurants, a large artisans market, and little children running around selling bracelets.

I self-diagnosed myself with a bacterial infection and promptly began my antibiotic regimen. More meds. Yum yum yum.


We had to have lunch with the group, which ended up being fun. Before the food came, we heard a spiel about the history and culture of the Taquile indigenous people. It was interesting, but way too long.

Quinoa soup was phenomenal. The fish was good too. We sat between two French dudes who didn’t speak Spanish and three Peruvian women who didn’t speak any English or French. Nate and I were the translators. It was kind of fabulous. I want to learn more languages.



We crossed the island and began our descent down to the other dock. While we waited for the rest of the group, Nate found a structure that he absolutely had to climb.



12:30pm departure from Taquile to Puno, travel time 3 hours


Sleep was awesome. There’s nothing that makes a boat ride go faster like sleep. But after a while, Nate got bored of me sleeping. We spent the rest of the ride poking each other and giggling at nonsensical elements.


Arrival in Puno…

… meant preparations for our immediate departure to Arequipa. We said goodbye to our groupmates and scuttled into town. Plaza de Armas led us to Parque Pinos. Laundry pickup, snacks, packing, and Terminal!

We picked up a pair of bus tickets to Arequipa on a pretty nice bus. We even got the top front seats on the double decker bus. We had an awesome view. What a great ride it’s gonna be, we thought. But, no, things in Peru are never that predictable.