Condors, Canyons....and The Curse of Lake Titicaca

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Hola once again mi amigos

Apologies for the gap in correspondence. The Travelblog website had to close down for a week because of a huge server problem - it reopened the other day, but had lost 11 of my most recent blogs in the internet ether (cue slight panic). Luckily I have been able to retrieve most of them via Google - I have lost all my Machu Picchu photos though - and also all of Marnie and I's first week or so in Peru. Could have been worse I guess!

Also this blog you are reading was completely wiped, which is really annoying as I was about to publish it when everything crashed. Never mind - my memory is still good, even if Travelblog's server isn't, and I'll try and remember everything that happened for the rest of Marnie's time in South America! It will take more than a few computer glitches to stop me - especially with just over three weeks to go before this blog will finish with me returning home!

Martin (sorry I mean Marnie) and I were sad to leave Cuzco after spending so long there (especially me, who had been there on and off for nearly two weeks). I know - it's really touristy and everyone either wants to give you a dodgy massage or sell you a llama jumper that will shrink to the siza of a babies' bib after one wash, but I would miss it. Marnie, I know would miss our perilous walk back to our hostel along "death alley", where the lack of pavement meant that pedestrians had to walk in the road, risking certain death (or at least a very flat foot) from the kamikaze taxi cabs that hurtled along the cobbled street at night.

We were lucky enough to meet up with Dave and Sandra (from Ireland) for a veggie curry in Cuzco before we disappeared. I first met them back in April on the Navimag ferry from Puerto Montt to Puerto Natales in Chile, and again at Iguazu Falls in Argentina when Terry was with me. Meeting them again in Cuzco was brilliant - lots of stories to catch up on and tips to exchange, especially as they had just come from Bolivia, where we were going next. They really are a lovely couple, and we've had a great "hat-trick" of places to meet up - the Navimag ferry in Patagonia, Iguazu, and Cuzco! Beat that!!

The overnight bus to Arequipa was highly amusing. In order to ensure a bit of comfort we went for the full "cama" - which in Peru means a footstool and a horizontal reclining seat. The seats certainly were not designed for 6 foot 5 ginger people! We also had a couple sitting in front of us that were practically eating each other, such was their amorous mood! Before the food was dished out (oh yes - very up market bus this one), they gave us these ridiculous tray things to attach to our arm rests. The trays were so high that they were almost under our chins - I felt like a geriatric who was about to be spoon fed his liquidised dinner! The hostess laughed out loud when Marnie asked if they had a vegetarian alternative to the meat option - these Peruvians have a strange sense of humour! The heavy snogging finally finished into front of us, just in time for the hostess to come round with bingo cards for us all. I tried my best to play in order to practice my Spanish, but it was difficult to keep up with her when she was reading the numbers out. My interest was finally extinguished when I found out the prize...a return ticket to Cuzco. Not much use to me! We switched our lights out and tried our best to get some sleep.

We arrived at Arequipa bus terminal at 5am in the morning. We were meant to be hooking up with a two day tour to the Colca Canyon - something we had organised back in Cuzco. Unfortunately our pick up time was a bit vague, and after waiting in the bus terminal for almost two hours we were beginning to wonder if they had forgotten about us. At least we had the cleaners to keep us entertained while we waited. The bench we were waiting on got moved under the direction of a very stern looking lady in a blue gingham cleaning coat. She then disappeared, only to come back at the head of a "Red Arrow" formation of mop-welding cleaning staff. There must have been about twelve cleaners, mopping the entire 300 metre length of the bus terminal floor, with their poe-faced squadron leader at the helm sprinkling detergent in front of her! It was a spectacle to look at - I only wished I videoed proceedings for future prosperity!

Eventually we managed to drag ourselves away from the mop formation dancing routine, and get a taxi to the tour office who were meant to be picking us up. There was a tour bus waiting outside the office in Arequipa, along with a guide with a register-board. "Ah..there you are...you must be Marine and See-Ann - please get on board the bus" he said as we approached. Just in case you are wondering, this is very South American way of dealing with things. No "Sorry we didn't pick you up from the bus station" or "Apologies for the delay, hope you weren't inconvenienced" - just get on the god-damn bus and stop
dawdling! Oh well - Marn and I just smirked at each other and got on the bus.

It was a full bus for the trip to Colca Canyon. We were driving for a long five hours to a small town called Chivay, where we were going to spend the night, then the following day we were going to visit the nearby canyon before driving all the way back again. Our guide, Omar, was a very knowledgable person, and as our bus drove along the scenic, high altitude altiplano, he was quick to point out any llamas, alpacas, and anything else he saw of interest. However, we calculated that he did not stop talking for 3 hours from when we left Arequipa, and by the time the 5th alpaca herd was pointed out to us, we had both put our headphones on!

We went for a short hike around (yet more) Inca ruins and terraces on the outskirts of Chivay, including a number of grisly open tombs complete with skulls and bones on display. The views from the top of the climb were impressive though. I joked with Marnie that if I had a pound for everytime I heard "....and on your left you'll find some Inca terraces", I'll have at least 65 quid.

Chivay itself was a very nice town when we got there, with a small village square populated with a few local restaurants. Omar had tried to persuade us to attend a "group dinner" with the rest of the coach. "Three courses and free traditional Peruvian show afterwards for a fiver" was the hard sell, but if we heard any more pan-pipe musak I think we were going to scream! We politely declined and headed for a cheap pizzeria instead later in the evening - only to find another 4 couples from our coach in there with the same idea! Very funny.

The next day we visited Colca Canyon. At over 4000 metres, it's the deepest canyon anywhere in the world - twice as deep as the Grand Canyon. We got off the bus and went for a 45 minute walk to Cruz del Còndor, a viewpoint from where we could watch condors on their morning fly past. The views as we walked along the lip of the canyon were breath-taking, with the huge drop below and the huge gulf stretching out in front of us.

We were not sure what to expect when we got to the condor viewing point - neither Marnie or I had seen condors that close before. When we got there it was already packed with coachloads of tourists. At first we could not see anything - then suddenly the first condor appeared. What a sight it was, as it swooped past us at eye level, before arcing back on itself and almost dive-bombing us as it returned back to it's nest. If you have never seen a condor before, they a MASSIVE. Their wingspan can get to 4 metres - heightwise, that's two of me and a bit more. They are very ugly, with grey wrinkly faces and hooked beaks, but the way they glide on the air currents without beating their wings really was beautiful to watch. More and more condors appeared, until there was around a dozen in the air gliding backwards and forwards metres over our heads. Marnie and I just gazed up in awe at these amazing creatures as they put on a truly memorable airshow for all the gringo tourists. It was a real effort to tear ourselves away and return to the bus.

We stopped on the way back to Chivay for a few more Colca Canyon "photo-stops", and to stop at a small village with a lovely adobe church, before having a quick bite for lunch there and returning to Arequipa via another five hour bus journey. This time Omar had run out of interesting things to talk about and fell asleep like the rest of us!

We decided to spend the following day sight-seeing in Arequipa, the second biggest city in Peru. Despite it's size, most of the points of interest are pretty near the main square, which is dominated by a giant cathedral. The Monasterio de Santa Catalina is a huge convent occupying a whole city block not far from the square. It really was a lovely tranquil place to visit, with pastel blue and raspberry red painted walls, and beautifully paved courtyards populated with wonderful magnolia trees and brightly coloured flowers. The rooms the nuns stayed in were left as they were when the convent was opened to the public in 1970, and were very austere in comparision to the colourful surroundings outside. It was an interesting place to visit.

We also visited the Museo Santuarios Andinos, which exhibits "Juanita - the ice princess", the frozen Inca maiden sacrificed on the summit of Mount Ampato over 500 years ago. Apparently the Incas thought that volcanoes were gods that could only be appeased by sacrifices in order to stop them erupting. Archaelogists have now found 20 child sacrifices up in the Andean mountains, but Juanita, because of the altitude she was found at (6,288 metres) is by far the best preserved. It was strange gazing at this mummy with all her skin intact in a dimly lit refrigerated glass box - with the amount of ice accumulating on her though, I think she was in need of a defrost soon!

We got the bus the following day to Puno, on Lake Titicaca. Puno was a nice town - far bigger than we were expecting, stretching from the shores of the lake a long way up to the adjacent hills. The centre of town was quite touristy, with a pedestrianised street full of restaurants, bars and internet cafes. We found a great little bar though just off the main drag that played great music, made up wicked Caprinhas and also made awesome pizzas. On our two nights in Puno we spent a lot of time there - the only bad memory I have of the place is being beaten twice by Marnie playing Jenga!! That delicate woman's touch was impossible to match!!

Our one full day at Puno involved a boat trip out onto Lake Titicaca to visit the floating islands (Islas Flotantes) and Isla Taquille, one of the larger islands on the lake. We all piled on our little boat, and after the inevitable pan-pipe music player did his turn (a truly dreadful version of Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da by the Beatles), we were introduced to our guide, Edwin. Edwin was a nice enough bloke, but had such a high-pitched voice I was convinced I was listening to Mickey Mouse! Unfortunately five minutes after we left the port, our boat suddenly spluttered to a stop. After much fiddling around with the engine, Edwin apologised and informed us we will have to change boats. We looked out yearnfully from our broken down vessel as we watched lots of other boats full of tourists speed past us on their way to the islands. Eventually another boat chugged out to meet our stranded ship, and we changed boats.

We got to the floating islands after passing through a really thick layer of green algae that seemed to cover a large area. Edwin informed us in high-pitched whine that it was caused by pollution from Puno - apparently everything gets emptied into the lake, which certainly put me off dipping my toes in the water! The islands themselves are remarkable works of achievement, made from layers of buoyant totora reeds that grow abundantly in the shallows of Lake Titicaca. The platform of reeds is some three metres thick, and is then moored to the bottom of the lake with strong rope. Everything on these islands is made from these reeds, from the houses, to the boats, to the chintzy crafts that are churned out for the tourists. There were loads of different floating islands, and all seemed to have a boatload of tourists visiting them. I do not mean to sound cynical, but it just seemed as a gimmick set up for the gringos and their big cameras. There was nothing much to do on the islands except wander around the craft stalls, and I later found out half the locals don't even live on the islands - they just turn up during the day when the tourists rock up. Marnie peeked into one reed house, expecting to see an austere living area, only to find a plasma screen tv, hi-fi and dvd player! So much for the "poor local people"!!

When it came for time to leave, Edwin squeeked to us that they were having problems with the new boat, and we would have to stay for another 30 minutes. There were a lot of unhappy campers, including a group from the UK who were insisting on being taken back to the mainland. "I have never travelled with such a shambolic organisation" one haughty woman said. Welcome to South America, love!! After much deliberating, most of the disillusioned tourists on our boat got a lift back to the mainland, while Marnie and I, and another half a dozen brave souls decided to gamble on our vessel making the 2 hour journey to Isla Taquille. We were pleased we made the effort - Taquille was beautiful, with great views out to the lake, and a pleasant central plaza where all the main activity on the island took place. We had a nice walk from one side of the island to the other, and a pleasant, incident-free journey back to Puno as the sun set on the lake.

Marnie was not that impressed with the hotel we spent our first night in Puno - there was certainly a lot of veneer wood going on, and it had a slight musty smell to it, but after so long away I had got used to dodgy hotels! We decided to change for our second night to the "upmarket" Hotel Colon in the centre of town. The name of the place caused great merriment during our night there - "I've been staying in the colon for a few days now and can thoroughly recommend it" and "I'm enjoying my time in the colon so much, you'll have to flush me out" were some of the low quality comments we came up with!

This was our last stop in Peru before heading into Bolivia. It was a bit sad to leave as I had got quite attached to Peru the month or so I had spent there. The people were among the kindest, helpful and generous I had come across anywhere in South America - and their sense of humour was superb. I'll certainly miss it - and hope to return one day to visit the dozens of places I had to skip this time around. Wonderful country!

The next day we caught a tourist bus to Copacabana on the Bolivian side of the lake. The journey itself was uneventful, but we had a bit of a funny moment at the border crossing. Our friends Dave and Sandra had told us some horror stories about the police at the border searching gringos and either stealing money/cameras/ipods or planting drugs in bags and insisting on a "bribe" to turn a blind eye. So when Marn and I had to get our exit visas stamped in this dodgy looking police building, we feared the worst. I got taken into a private room and got told to empty my bag, my pockets, and my money belt by a very surly looking moustashioed policeman. When I got my money out on his table, I made a very deliberate effort to keep it within easy reach. "Any drugs?" he asked, to which I politely replied "No, Señor". His assistant rooted through my bag and then gave it back to me. "Right..you are free to go - enjoy Bolivia!" said the man behind the desk as he stamped my visa. I left telling Marnie, the next in line, to keep an eye on her dollars! In the end, it was all fine, but we found the whole experience slightly unpleasant, and you can easily see how possessions "go missing" in that sort of situation.

Copacabana was a tranquil little village, much smaller than Puno, with hardly any cars driving around it's streets. Because it was so small, most of the activity revolved around the main street leading down to the lake and the small port area. We found a brilliant restaurant on our first day called La Orilla, and ended up eating there every evening because the food was so good! Fish curries, falafels, fajitas, stuffed trout....the menu was endless! By the end we weren't even needing to look at the menu - we knew what we were eating!

Our hotel, the Utama, was very nice, but because there was no central heating and we were at nearly 4,000 metres above sea level, it was bloody freezing at night. Marnie and I christened it "Hotel Frio" (cold in Spanish), as we put on our thermal leggings and fleeces before climbing under a mountain of blankets into our beds. Our shower was one of those electric contraptions that looks hideously dangerous with bare wires precariously attached to the shower head. It took a while for Marnie to get used to it, but once we mastered how to get hot water, she was a lot happier! I just had to be careful not to bump the showerhead with my bonce, as it caused some rather worrying buzzing noises!

We went out for a 17km walk from Copacabana to Yampupata along the peninsular jutting out into Lake Titicaca on our first full day. It was a stunning walk that reminded me very much of New Zealand, the way the trees went right down to the shores of the lake, and fingers of land and small islands spanned out in front of us. The scenery really was something else, with rocky hills, forests, blue skies and of course, a wonderful placid lake to gaze at. Walking through the forests of eucalyptus trees left a wonderful refreshing fragrance in the air, and certainly helped clear the head. It was hard going though, and after 3 hours of walking Marnie was getting blisters! I kept telling her that the end will be around the next corner, but unfortunately around the next corner was usually another steep hill to climb! She stuck with it to the bitter end though, and we were both relieved to find a small restaurant open in the otherwise deserted village of Yampupata. We went for the healthy option on the menu - chips with melted cheese(!), and chilled out in the restaurant garden enjoying the sun and the occassional chicken that came in to visit us. We were told by the restaurant manager that there would be a bus to take us back to Copacanana in around an hour. When it turned up, it resembled a very beaten up mini bus! This was obviously the only way for anything to travel between Yampupata and Copacabana, and there was all sorts of oils, dried fish and vegetables already on board when we took our seats. The bus stopped every couple of minutes to let another local on, along with their huge bags of goodies to take into town. All ten seats were quickly snapped up, and Marnie and I kept looking at each other in amazement as the driver continued to stop to let someone else on. In the end it resembled something out of The Guinness Book of Records, as I counted 21 people, including the driver on this bus. By this stage I had worked my way back to the corner seat, with my knees under my chin, looking at Marnie who had a nice old bloke wedged right next to her who smelt like he hadn't seen a bar of soap in quite a while. The journey to Copacabana took around an hour, but it seemed like three! When we got off the bus, we both agreed it was better than walking back....just!

We visited Isla del Sol (The Isalnd of the Sun) the following day. Again the curse of Lake Titicaca struck, as we serenely left the small port on our boat. We got to the small naval checkpoint and were stopped by a very serious looking officer who told our captain that our boat was not registered. Another yearnful look out to all the other boats followed, merrily chugging along towards the Island of the Sun, while we stayed moored to the checkpoint for 30 minutes. Eventually our captain sorted out the necessary registration (or threw the officer a back-hander...much more likely), and we were off. Isla del Sol was another beautiful island - the biggest on Lake Titicaca. We got dropped off at Cha'llapampa and followed the footpath up to the Temple of the Sun. It was quite impressive, but by that stage Marnie and I had had more than our fill of Inca ruins! The walk up and down the high ridges of the island to Yumani was magnificent, if slightly hard work. The walking path snaked up and further up ahead - every time we reached the brow of one hill, another emerged in front of us. The views were something else though, with the rocky desert-like landscape giving way to dense eucalyptus forests, leading down to a huge peaceful lake on top of which, in the distance sat the snow-laden Andean mountain range.

The end of our walk, at Yumani, was quite dramatic as we came across a few local villagers struggling to get a huge wooden pole out of the ground. I asked in my stuttering Spanish if I could be of any assistance, and they glady accepted my help. It was bloody hard work - me and a swarthy local bloke tied a length of rope around the base of this pole while two middle-aged ladies lassoed another rope towards it's top. We dug around a deep hole in order to loosen the earth around the base, then gave a massive tug to try and dislodge this thing out of the ground. After about four tugs and shouts of "Uno, dos, tres...ahora!!", we finally up-rooted the pole, and just managed to avoid decapitating one of the local women as the thing clattered to the ground. Lots of handshakes and pats on the back allround followed, and a woman rushed into the next door restaurant and presented me with a bottle of Coke for my efforts! Marnie offered lots of encouragement as the boys toiled, and she got some funny photos too!

It was a nice leisurely trip back to Copacabana from Isla del Sol, and after a meal in our favourite restaurant we went for a cheeky Pisco Sour nightcap in a bar called Akwaaba on the main drag. The music was a bit mad (it was advertised as "Gipsy & Latin Ska"), but was pretty damn good. The mad beardie bloke playing the oboe was particularly impressive, going into a crazy impromptu solo routine on every song. By the end of the night, the rest of the band were looking pretty pissed off with him!

It was sad to leave Copacabana the next day - despite being artic-cold at night, the place had a nice laid-back feel to it, and had yet to be "touristified" like Puno on the other side of the lake. The curse of Titicaca struck one last time on the way to La Paz however when our bus got a flat tyre an hour or so out. Having a spare tyre would have been too obvious for a Bolivian bus, so instead we waited an hour and a half while they got one from a nearby garage. I kept telling Marnie it was all part of the joys of travelling...I don't think she saw the funny side!!

It was amazing seeing La Paz for the first time as our now-repaired bus made it's way along the lip of the canyon in which this huge city sits, slowly spreading it's way up the canyon's walls. The term "sprawling metropolis" definitely sprang to mind as we gazed out of the bus window as we wound our way down into the city. There was a university street carnival going on in the centre of town, and it was fairly chaotic with lots of streets closed to traffic. Marnie and I eventually got to our hostel (the Adventure Brew Hostel - very good), had a few drinks in the balcony bar there before braving the streets of La Paz for ourselves firsthand. The carnival was in full swing right outside our hostel, and it was great fun dodging past people and unintentionally going the street dancers as we worked our way down the busy road packed with revellers. We eventually made it to a nice restaurant (Sol y Luna - great peppered steak!), before having an emotional last Pisco Sour together in "the 100% fake English pub", Olivers Travels. The place was completely crazy as it was some local ex-pats birthday, and half the pub were dressed up as Spiderman, including the bar staff! All slightly surreal, and a good way for Marn to enjoy her last night in South America!

It was a bit emotional the following morning when Marnie left to go to La Paz airport and her flight to London (via Lima and Amsterdam...long haul!!). We certainly had squeezed in a lot in 3 weeks. I was worried that we were trying to do too much, especially on the adventure stuff in the jungle and the trekking, but she was brilliant and took to all the challenges with great gusto. She was certainly great company and it feels weird being on my ownsome again in La Paz.

No worries though - in just over three weeks I'll be back in London, which feels slightly strange as I type these words out in a dodgy internet cafe in downtown La Paz. Lots to fit in before now and then however - off to Potosi next in the south of Bolivia to visit a silver mine, before heading off to the salt flat desert near Uyini. Then I cross the border back to Chile, spending a few days in San Pedro before making my way back to Santiago for a flight to Rio, and some serious sun-tanning on Ipanema beach. I need a holiday after all this travelling!!

Adios until the next time.

Doogs

(There follows a belated message from the lovely Miss Kay!)

Arequipa was lovely and sunny, Puno was buzzy, the
reed islands were interesting, although anything but
authentic, and Copacabana was suitably twee... lovely
and sunny during the day, but man, our hotel was like
a freezer at night. Character building stuff! Now it's
back to London for me after a final night of fun in La
Paz. There was a huge festival here that started at
8am and was still going strong at 11pm! Nice of them
to put that on for my last night here! Anyway, Sean's
blog and the photos speak for themselves.... it's been
a blast, so a big thank you to Doogan Tours - highly
recommended! Over and out from Marnie xo

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Comments

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phew, sean, you have great patience writing all that ! most informative tho. sounds like you had a ball with marnie. c u in exactly 2 weeks from today ! lots of love xx