Lake Titicaca

Lake Titicaca is one of those places I've always wanted to visit, mainly because it sounds so exotic and far away, like Tierra del Fuego, or Cabra (which, incidentally, has become known as Fabra in certain circles due to its popularity as a residential location for homosexual couples. Apparently). The bus trip from La Paz took an interesting twist at the Straits of Tiquina, where we disembarked and were herded onto a little launch that ferried us across the narrow straits to the other side of the lake, while our bus nosed its way onto a wooden barge for the crossing. The return journey took an even more interesting twist when the motor failed and el capitan had to signal for another launch to come over and tow us.
The last stop, Copacabana, was all I hoped it would be: a relaxed little town on the shores of the lake with a rundown seaside resort feel (Chile robbed Bolivia's coastline in the Pacific war in the 1870's, so in the absence of a seaside of their own Bolivians have to make do with the lake. They could do worse, but they're still a bit touchy with Chile.) The following morning I rented a bike for the 35km round trip to Yampupata, a little village of 80 families at the end of the peninsula beside Copacabana. If i'd realised it would involve long steep ascents (at 4000m altitude don't forget) that would reduce me to trudging along on foot for long periods I may not have been so enthusiastic.
What I found at the end of the road made it worthwhile though. I sat down to recover against a stone wall facing the little harbour and was soon joined by 3 local men of three different generations with whom I shared 30 of the most relaxing minutes I've ever known. We chatted a bit, but mainly we just sat there in the sun listening to the brightly coloured rowing boats bobbing up and down in the water and watching a little girl and a dog bring a small herd of sheep to the water's edge to graze. This tranquil scene was briefly interrupted when a donkey came thundering down the hill all het up about something, but he too was soon overcome by the serenity. As Darryl Kerrigan of The Castle would say: "So much serenity".

Here's a llama I passed on the way home who seemed to be contemplating the nature of his existence.
The next morning me and my saddle-sore arse got the boat to Isla del Sol, the site of one of the main Inca creation myths, 2 hours out into the lake. The morning boat drops you off at the northern end so you can hike for a couple of hours down the spine of the island to the southern harbour for the afternoon boat home. During the walk there are great views over the bright blue waters of the lake to the Bolivian and Peruvian shores and the Uros islands. Plus I got another good donkey photo. I'm also working on a photo series called "Dogs of Latin America".








I was hanging around with an Italian guy in Copacabana who has been travelling around South America speaking Italian with a vaguely Latin American accent and has managed to communicate with a lot of success. More power to him.