2nd November

After all the tourists and the hawkers of the last couple of weeks, Isla del Sol is a breath of fresh air. There aren’t really any tourists here, just your average backpackers who are a lot quieter than your average holiday makers that we got used to in southern Peru. Nobody trying to sell you anything either, just the odd child asking you for a little something instead. It’s a quiet place, barring the oddly timed band practice, and I like it already.

We took a trek across the island this morning, to a port on the other side. A nice trek, through a couple of villages where we got to meet and speak with the local children. Always a smile and a “buena dias” from everyone we passed. This is what travelling is all about, strolling along and quietly fitting in with the locals. The scenery too, sometimes a bit bland, but then you turn a corner and you realise again just how beautiful this continent is.

Passing children shepherding their family sheep down the hills into the fields below. Watching the village women all washing their hair and clothes in unison in a small common square set between their houses. Watching the kids flying their kites already at this early hour, this seems to be the main pastime here on Isla del Sol. All of these things giving you sense of what the daily life is like here. It’s slow and peaceful, and I suspect largely the same each and every day. It’s like rural England, perhaps a hundred years ago. A world lost to modernity in our part of the planet.

After three hours of walking across this peaceful island we reached our destination, the port where we will catch a boat back to the mainland this afternoon. We chilled on the beach for a while, and it is a beach here despite it bordering a lake. You have to remind yourself that it is a lake too, because to all intents and purposes it looks just like a sea. You don’t expect to find pigs on the beach though. In Bolivia it seems, taking your pigs to the beach to grub through the reeds on the shore is the done thing. Having them make their way through your belongings sniffing out your packed lunch is a little cheeky though, as a visiting family found to their cost. Something tells me Bolivia is going to be a weird and wonderful place.

The boat came, a similar deal to yesterday, except maximum capacity ratings seem to count for nothing today as both the cabin area and the roof were filled to overflowing. I opted for the roof. A dumb mistake. It alternated between bloody cold and sun-burning hot as the sun slipped in and out of the clouds. Trouble was, the boat was so overcrowded that I couldn’t make my way downstairs even if I wanted to. I now have a sunburnt nose as a prize for my rooftop decision. I noticed too how the pilot managed to compensate for the lack of life jackets by keeping the boat within easy reach of the shore. Might be safer that way, but a fair bit longer, and it took us four hours to get back to the mainland. My nose really is quite burnt.

The mainland is a place called Copacabana. I remember as a child when Barry Manilow had a song of the same name in the charts, listening to it being played relentlessly one holiday in Rhyl, Wales. Being here, I can’t help but hear it running around in my head, just as relentlessly as back then, but I also can’t help but feel a fondness for it. This is Copacabana, and it’s got a great holiday feel to it, it’s just a shame we’re only here for one night. We’re lucky enough again to have picked a hotel with a superb view though. A sunset this evening that could melt the soul, as we slipped into dinner and possibly the best meal I’ve tasted since being here. Curried chicken, and done to perfection. Life doesn’t get much better than this.

“Her name was Lola, she was a show girl ...”

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Part of trip: South America 2009 - Ecuador, Peru & Bolivia

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