Lake Titicaca, or is that Titikaka


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South America » Bolivia » La Paz Department » La Paz
August 3rd 2012
Published: August 18th 2012
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We decided to take a day trip to Lake Titicaca from La Paz. It happened to be Friday the 3rd of August which is a day of celebration by Bolivian students and teachers. The streets were choked with parades and demonstrations, leading up to Independence Day (the 6th August). We were picked up early by the minibus and made our way back up the hill to El Alto, the sprawling con-urb above La Paz. Crowds were gathering even before 8am and our driver wound his way through all the back streets and alleys in order to keep us moving forward. People were dressed formally. The kids in dress uniforms. We crossed the relatively barren plains outside El Alto and towards Copacabana. The first sight of the lake was over low marshy country. The Totora reeds grow right up to the shore, and are cultivated for animal feed. The floating villages are further north around Puna, Peru, so they’re for a later trip. I was surprised to see so many eucalypts along the shores. Turns out South America is now the world’s largest producer of eucalypt wood for pulp and firewood. Go figure. Lake Titicaca covers an enormous surface area – note Google maps – but is generally no more than 6m deep. Thirty metres at its deepest. The coastlines are now a key spot for aquaculture. Trout and Queenfish. Apparently the escapees are pretty disastrous for the endemic, and smaller fish species, but this is why the trout in Bolivia is so good. Out in the middle of the picturesque lake is the island Suriqui, from which Thor Heyerdahl and collaborators sourced reeds for Ra II, the reed boat for one of his expeditions across the Atlantic. It was also a prison of sorts for political prisoners at various times.

On our trip we crossed onto the key isthmus on the Bolivian side by small private boat over the Strait of Tiquina. The minibus was moved across by private barge. All very efficient but powered by thirty year old outboard motors. The water was crystal clear and we were amazed by the number of private small craft which ply this narrow stretch of water. On the other side statues celebrated the long-lost glory of the Inca kings. We climbed steeply out of the port and towards Copacabana township. The Peruvian border bisects the lake in a very strange way, which suggests some earlier, difficult border negotiations. The road ran closely past the border, which both nations appear to take seriously. It climbed even further to what I imagined was higher than 4500m. High mountain communications and observatory towers. Once over the high ridges we dropped down to Copacabana nestled behind a knoll, jutting out into the lake. Stopping at a random viewpoint, we were amazed when one of the Italians we had met in Uyuni stepped off the bus and simply said “Hi, guys.”. The driver dropped us beside the main pedestrian mall after passing a passport checkpoint. There were hundreds of Peruvians in town for an independence-related celebration. It struck us as a strange coincidence that the holiday weekends of Bolivia and Peru coincide given political tensions in the past. One of the tourist stops was a small narrow chapel where hundreds of candles were lit, and pilgrims smeared the walls with molten wax, even though the signs said officiously not to do this. We followed the rules of course. Into the Cathedral which has great fascination for Peruvians and Bolivians alike, and mostly because of the depiction of the Virgin Mary with black skin: most unusual and highly
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Chapel at Copacabana
regarded. Walking out into the square we were enveloped in the crowd. We continued on and between the ranks of a student parade, mindful of our belongings. Like Aussie school kids there was broad diversity in terms of engagement with this whole parade thingie. Kids marching diligently, others dragging their feet, still others poked each other with drumsticks. Our lunch venue was further down the road towards the harbour. We dodged crowds. Bill purchased local peanuts that appeared to be rolled in extra red dirt for touristic effect. Again lunch featured the wonderful fresh trout. Our guide told us about his career leading groups around the sights of Bolivia. Bill experimented with Quechuan colloquial sayings which seem to be different in each country. Time got tight and so we “hoofed’ it through the crowds down to the wharf.

Dozens of little boats plied the route to the Island of the Sun. The boats seemed strangly underpowered with two small (and old) outboard motors and given the number (dozens) of tourists that were packed inside and on the roof. It took us about 90 mins to cross the Lake and barely 8 knots – we kept expecting to see sea lions or at least a Frigate bird. Nada.

The island of the Sun was very pretty. After getting off the ferry along a rickety jetty we climbed quickly to some Inca ruins which had been a stopping off point for pilgrims during Inca times, and had subsequently been used by keen tourists as early as the 1930s. Imagine what it was like, travelling with such little support or infrastructure to this unique place. We walked from one bay to another and looked over steep agricultural terracing, Inca ruins and reticulated water systems. It would be an interesting place to spend a few days, particularly to capture that feeling of remoteness. Not too touristy. The walk was brisk but not difficult. We were all thinking about the Inca trail ahead of us. At the final little village we testing the fresh water and boarded our little boat for Copacabana. Again a rather drawn out trip back to town but the sunlight was beautiful across the lake. By the time we were approaching Copacabana we could see evidence of the Peruvian festivities. Thousands of people up on top of the mountain preparing to watch the sun set over the Lake. Groups
Copacabana paradeCopacabana paradeCopacabana parade

To celebrate indepndence
of young fellas were breaking glass off the point, hoping to appease the spirit of the Lake’s toad God. The Peruvians had lined their trucks up along the water front, cases of beer were purchased and “Champagne” (more like tequila I understand) was being chugged down. It looked like it would be a big night as we headed up through the mall. Fortune tellers were reading the three dimensional patterns of rapidly cooled molten silver on behalf of earnest patrons. The sunset was shaping up to be spectacular as we drove away from the town. I asked the driver for a photo opportunity, ran from the minibus and was promptly baled up by a guard dog. A small herd of domestic pigs ambled past which luckily distracted his attention. I got the shot. Our passports were checked and rechecked much to the chagrin of our guide. It took us until something like 10pm to get back into La Paz. The trip through El Alto seemed just as tortuous and rough as earlier in the day when I thought we were dodging student parades. Perhaps that’s as direct a route as they can manage! We were dropped at one of the downtown plazas and picked up pizza for the evening. Bolivia Supreme pizza – not bad. As usual the taxi driver struggled to find the Hostel a la Maison.


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18th August 2012

redjam
Hi Greg and Catherine We have been reading your blogs. Really well written and making us very jealous! The Galapagos sounded super, look forward to hearing more. Had a nice sail on the Ekka holiday, over 100 boats out! cheers Blair and Denise

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