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Published: August 10th 2006
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Wednesday we had reservations on the 8am train from Cusco to Puno, on the shore of Lake Titicaca. Amy woke me at 7am, I was still drunk from the previous night´s clubbing. I slept the first few hours of the journey missing some amazing scenery. Of course, there was plenty more to come.
The train travelled really slowly taking 10 hours to reach Puno. The same journey by bus is only 6 hours! Much classier than the bus ride though. We watched the mountains pass by in comfort, ate good food (although a bit expensive) and read our books.
Stopped at a station in the middle of nowhere around 12 to stretch our legs. There was a small market selling jumpers, hats, water, chocolate, empanadas, etc. Despite the altitude it wasn´t cold but it snowed briefly! Quite weird.
Arrived in Puno at 6pm and opted for a swanky hotel with cable TV. We were both tired and fancied watching a couple of films, in english. Its amazing how entertaining 'made for tv' movies on fuzzy HBO can be.
We had planned to stay just one night in Puno, leaving for Copacabana, Bolivia the next day. However, we
turned up at Puno bus station at 11 only to find all the tourist buses to Copacabana leave before 7.30 in the morning. The only other option was catching collectivos to the border and navigating the border on foot. As neither of us had the energy for such adventurous behaviour we opted to stay another night - in a different hostal at half the price.
Our bus to Copacabana was 30 minutes late, no surprises there. As we approached the border there was a huge traffic jam, probably a mile long, of people leaving peru for bolivia. I´m not sure how this works but our bus overtook the whole lot, driving on the wrong side of the road directly to the border point - tourist power. Official business was straight forward and we had bolivian stamps in our passports in no time.
There was a festival in Copacabana the weekend we arrived. A huge market occupied almost every street in the town and the festivities had taken over the lakeside with table football and giant gorilla bouncy castles. All along the side of the highest hill in Copacabana was a queue of people. Apparently it is traditional to
walk through the stations of the cross in order to obtain a blessing from the Virgen de Copacabana for your wishes and hopes for the year ahead. What this equated to was an insane amount of people taking part in the pilgrimage and purchasing miniature replicas of the things they need blessing. There were mini internet cafes and service stations for sale and even fake enlarged money. Suspiciously pagan for such a catholic country!
Some hostals were already full but we managed to get a lovely room in the Hostal Colonial (20 dollars per night) - top floor with a great view over the lake. The altitude of 3800m made climbing the 4 flights of stairs a challenge.
On Saturday we took the boat to Isla del Sol, about 2 hours from Copacabana. We were dropped at the north end of the island and had 4 hours to trek to the south to catch the boat home. Initially we were anxious that we'd taken the longer (5 hour) coastal route and wouldn't make it to the boat in time. We tried to cut inland, following a sheep track up the mountain but it didn't really lead anywhere. A
helpful local directed us back to the coast path. After an hour or so we realised from our less than detailed "map" that regardless of which path we were on we had plenty of time and started to enjoy the walk and fabulous scenery. We arrived at the south end with 1.5 hours to spare, plenty of time to enjoy a beer before catching the boat.
Becky and Tim arrived on Sunday so we spent time chilling out with them. Late afternoon Amy and I browsed around the market. Although I didn't realise at the time, this was when my bag was slashed in a failed robbery attempt. Apparently it happens a lot during the fiesta. We met others who'd suffered the same fate.
Sunday evening we were in a cafe/bar just down the street from the hostal and were lucky enough to catch some live music from a local band called Sonaaba. Guitarist/singer, bongo drummer and alto sax player with a huge beard, they played in a jazzy samba stylie. Sadly we had dinner reservations at the Copala for 8 so had to leave after 2 songs.
Monday caught the midday bus to La Paz.
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