Our third destination: Bolivia

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So we’re now in our third country... Bolivia. First destination: Copacabana for Isla Del Sol. This literally was just a launching pad for us to get a boat to yet another island on Lake Titicaca, but this time on the Bolivian side. It’s a quaint little lakeside town though, feeling like a beachside town really, with paddle boats for tourists and many lakeside cafes serving fresh fish and what not. It would have been nice to have stayed here more than one night, but hey, we’re used to the rush by now.

Isla del sol though, we purposely tried not to rush and stayed the night there as the books had made it out to be something rather special. That it definitely was. We arrived by 4pm and were greeted by a cheeky little chap who offered to show us a hotel in the village we had arrived in named Yumani, obviously because he got commission from the hotel for doing so. We accepted the offer and he led us up a gruelling number of steps to Hostel Inti Kala. Those gruelling steps were definitely worth it though, as we had climbed high enough to get a spectacular view over the lake. The colour is out of this world, not quite as striking as Lake 69, but still a beautiful blue and extremely still with incredible clouds sat above it. Despite our previous plans to hike straight to the village of Challa and stay there instead as it’s meant to be quieter with fewer tourists, this view was too good to miss, so we parked ourselves up on the balcony and relaxed in a truly breathtaking area.

There was one thing about this evening though that we hadn’t bargained for. A marching band roaming the streets of this village at 3:30am. Yes the night time, when people are sleeping, not usually playing the trumpet or the drum. Despite me being a heavy sleeper, this did wake me up. It took a while to register whether I was dreaming or not. I was in a tiny village on a tiny island in the middle of Bolivia where there are no streetlamps. It’s the middle of the night and there is a marching band roaming the streets in pitch black piping away as if it were a military march in a busy city street. How on earth they could see where they were going I do not know. More importantly, why the heck were they playing in the middle of the night anyway? I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. Only in Bolivia, I thought to myself.

It’s safe to say that due to this I got little sleep, but still managed to be up and out by 7 to start our 5 hour walk across the length of the island. Getting up at this time, despite Dads reluctance, was definitely a good idea, because all the other tourists were not yet out of bed, or hadn’t reached the island yet as new boats pull in at around 10:30. Thus we had the entire walk to ourselves. All we encountered were locals with their animals. It was so peaceful and so beautiful. Such a secluded place. I can’t quite make up my mind whether this seclusion (if permanent) would be bliss or drive me insane, but just popping through, it definitely was bliss.

Once we arrived at the final village of Challapampa we rested on the beach, watching the pigs foraging in the lake, pulling up something... what I do not know, but they were all happily munching on it. They weren’t only eating this mystery find in the lake, but also stealing tourists’ lunches out of their bags, which was quite comical. Only in Bolivia, again I thought would you be sat on a beach and have a random pig come and steal your lunch. As well as the farm animals we watched the locals pulling in on their tiny boats loaded with goods from the mainland. All dressed perfectly in traditional dress of course, even just for the shopping trip. This consists of layered skirts, wool cardigans with a sequin shawl over the top, topped off with a bowler hat. Similarities with the Peruvian dress, but ever so slightly different. One thing I have noticed though is that here they all wear the dress; the tradition does not seem to have been lost in younger generations like it has in many places in Peru. Only time will tell whether that is the case for the majority of Bolivia though.

Yet another difference I spotted instantly was the disorganisation and lack of care for health and safety here. This definitely is a much more backward country than Peru and Ecuador. An instance would be the boat we took there and back from Isla Del Sol. No lifejackets, smashed windows, incredibly uncomfortable seats, and ramming as many passengers on as possible (with some sitting on the floor of the roof). I couldn’t help but think what if we sink, I actually would die and it seemed quite possible with the overload we had on board. To top it all off, the driver was stood up, on his mobile phone, steering the boat with his foot. This was a long way away (not literally as it’s on the other side of the lake) from the boat we took from Puno, with reclining comfortable chairs, a guide who spoke English, only so many allowed to sit on the benches on the roof, free tea and sweets and a skilled driver. But hey, what do I expect for 20 Bolivianos (£2)!

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