Needy and Reedy on Los Uros; No Peace in La Paz

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With slightly more stable stomachs we departed to the bus station in Cusco to travel to Puno. The train had looked very promising until we discovered it costs twice as much and takes four hours more. The bus it was then, only our bus company decided it lacked bov on that particular day, so a very friendly lady helped us swap buses. We spent the next eight hours at the front of a very busy double-decker, watching the altiplano go by through a smashed window - don't worry folks, they'd used sellotape to fix it. Push the Scottish highlands up by two thousand meters and stick some llamas and alpacas on it and you have something similar to our kaleidoscopic view.

Puno was our last stop in Peru, and we were glad it wasn't our first or we might not have bothered exploring the varied and beautiful country. Puno is an old port town that, like so much of the country, has realised the value of tourism. The main attraction of the town is Lake Titicaca and the floating reed islands; Los Uros. A half day visit to the island left us with mixed feelings about the impact of tourism.

The islanders have lived in the same way for over a thousand years with very little contact with the outside world, only trading fish for essentials. We joined one of many tours to the islands. The islanders demonstrated their construction methods and showed us a little of their way of life. We tried their staple food; reeds, which tastes really delici - no, it tasted of nothing. Well, maybe a little mud?

At least, that was their way of life. Now, many of the islands cater for the tourist trade. In some ways this was good; they could afford solar panels, schools and more permanent buildings. However, we felt we had very little choice about whether or not we wanted to buy handicrafts here, we were dutybound to help them. The children seem to be growing up expecting donations from those funny foreign people. It left us wondering how this distortion on their values would affect future generations.

And so to Bolivia! Our first border crossing by foot turned out to be slightly traumatic as the Peruvian customs officers kept demanding to see our dollars and credit cards. A well known scam, but still scary when you have to lie to a man with a large moustache and an even larger gun. The Bolivian side was a more languid affair; we were soon in Copa, Copacabana (la, la, la, la la-lala).

We stayed in a lovely hostel overlooking Lake Titicaca. It was a beautiful, relaxing town with none of the hassles of Peru - the startling number of hippies would probably agree with this. Is it really possible to wear that amount of stripy llama clothing? Where did they all come from?

Copacabana was a good base to explore the shores of the famous lake. There were Inca ruins to see, and the birthplace of the Incas themselves, Isla del Sol. Didn't do any of it, but lying in a hammock all day was good. We did actually think about doing something, but you never know, it might rain!

Deciding that the laziness must end we burst into action and bought bus tickets for La Paz, highest capital city in the world and much more bellybutton shaped than Cuzco. The guidebooks describe it as "vibrant": this usually means "ugly". Nightmarish at first, the streets are choked by buses and the pavements clogged by markets - but it's grown on us. At least it's not another slice of Europe! The surrounding 6000m mountains provide a striking backdrop.

Soon after arriving we were travelling up one of these big mountains in a minibus piled high with mountain bikes. In a mere 5 hours we went from 5300m (snow) to 750m (jungle) with lots of big scary corners next to large drops. Jim absolutely loved it, and tried his best to get as close to death as possible, I began to let go of the brakes a little more about half way down and enjoyed the scenery more than anybody else.

The rest of our time has been spent wandering around La Paz and its many markets - the best one being the Witches' Market. You can buy charms for anything here, and it is a very superstitious country that still worships Pachamama (Mother Earth). If you are building a house you should bury a dried llama foetus under it (available to buy at the street stalls), if you are building a bigger building then a human is the best sacrifice (available to buy from slighty more secretive places).

Worryingly, we spent 5 days doing nothing in La Paz. We blame the magic-time-suck machine - maybe the witches do exist? Finally attempting to do something, we bumped into Ken and Kate (again). They possessed the power to lever us away from La Paz and onto our next adventure! More on that soon...

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