Copacabana & Isla Del Sol

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I have to say, I was not wholly convinced we were going to have a seat on the bus that morning when we arrived at the bus terminal. We had got up early and hailed a taxi which got us there in record time as there as hardly any traffic, then we found the desk of the company we had bought our ticket with. Now, considering we had no seat number and I remember seeing the sheet showing the booked seats looking rather full on the woman's desk last night, I fully expected to be on a reserve list for a 'no show' - or worse.

I should not have been so pessimistic! We showed the woman at the desk our ticket and she promptly jumped up and asked us to follow her as she made her way across the terminal to another tour company. As it happens, this company had several of its seats to Copacabana reserved for our agency (Tour Peru) and we were allocated a new ticket with seat numbers immediately. This process seems to be a regular thing - we just have met so many cheats who would rather con you out of money than help you our view of travel companies has been coloured somewhat.

So, thankfully, after a half an hour or so of waiting in the terminal and seeing more and more backpackers turn up (the most we had seen in one place since Asia) we boarded the bus. It proved to be of the same quality as we would have received on the Tour Peru ticket, so we were more than happy. For a couple of hours we relaxed, watching the views from the window as we traversed the route alongside lake Titicaca, climbing and descending small, scrub covered hills adjacent to sparkling blue water.

We stopped briefly in small town just outside of the border where we were given the opportunity to change money, which we seized, knowing that money changers in Copacabana often give poor rates and there being no ATM there either. It was only a 10min ride the to the border - a small, dusty village with a handful of houses, shops and several more money changers, as well as the official buildings. The process of getting stamped out of the country involved a two-fold queuing system, where you had your visa form (received on the way into a country) stamped by the police, then entered another building where immigration took the form and stamped the passport. The reasoning behind this long-winded system escapes me - perhaps they just want to employ more people, or make the police seem useful.

Once through the Peruvian system, Warren and I walked across 'no-man's-land' (a nice uphill stroll) to the Bolivian border, where we simply went into an office and had a stamp put straight into out passport. We did not even have to get our bags from the coach for scanning/checking - the first time in a while! How very trusting of them :-) Around half an hour later we were pulling up in the centre of Copacabana: our home for the next few days.

Copacabana, the original - whose name was borrowed for the seaside resort in Brazil made famous by Mr Manilow - is a fairly pretty town which is surrounded by hills and sits on the bank of the lake, making it a popular stop on many traveller's routes. There are a couple of nice squares along the main street which runs from the lakeside to the cathedral - very walkable. This being said, it is rather heavy on the souvenir shops and hostels, as well as companies trying to sell you bus tickets to other towns or trips to the Isla del Sol. As soon as we had alighted the bus and had begun walking towards our chosen hostel, we were accosted by touts trying to get us to La Paz! Not yet thanks, we only just got here...

Our hostel was right in the middle of town, with a small restaurant (popular with locals) that had behind it the rooms and a lovely sunny courtyard. The room itself was a little 'worn' and without private bathroom, but it had the first double bed we had experienced in a while and opened right onto the aforementioned terrace. Certainly, at 50 Bolivians (£5) it was a bargain! We spent a little time sorting our stuff out then went for a wander down hill to the lake front. The cobbled road ends abruptly (with a nice big, white concrete anchor facing you) and in its place along the edge of the lake is a dirt track, bordered on one side by the many tour boat operators and on the other by the slightly more pricey hotels and cheap eateries. It was pleasant enough along the stretch of road, seeing local women trying to entice locals and tourists alike to patronise their little 'restaurant' with trays of locally caught trout that were proudly shoved under their noses! Not the best way of getting clients - most walked away! The only negative our senses identified was a pungent odour that wafted occasionally across the area towards us - not fishy, more like rotten rubbish. (This was not present on future trips, so goodness knows what it was/where it came from).

After a quick debate, we decided to head back up the main street for lunch (partly to avoid the smell) and went into one of the many establishments offering a set meal. It is common for SA countries to have a larger lunchtime meal which can be a good way for travellers to save money as they are often cheap. At this place, we received a very nice vegetable soup, followed by freshly caught and cooked trout (local speciality) with rice and chips, followed by a small fruit salad - all for £1.20! It was a great meal :-)

It was here though that we first experienced problems with money - mainly, getting change for anything over £5! Bolivian notes come in denominations of 10, 20, 50 and 100, so when changing money (or at an ATM) and you are changing £100 you get given larger notes. However shops, restaurants etc either give you a pitiful look (or blankly refuse to accept) 50 or 100 notes as the change is hard to come by! This makes it exceptionally challenging to pay for things, having to try and conserve small notes/change for street vendors and being forceful with people we know CAN change our money, just don't WANT to. Always fun...

Anyway, after lunch we wandered around town some more before having a read in the sun then collapsing for a very Spanish siesta - much needed after several very early mornings! It was dark when we awoke (shameful!) and dinnertime, so we satisfied that need and spent some time planning before bed.

The following morning we were up and out early for a walk to the top of a hill overlooking the town and the lake. The hill itself was only a few hundred meters high but on top of the 3800m we started at near the base. This of course meant that we were panting for breath all the pay up with the air being so thin but for the religious people doing the walk, there were 14 separate effigies on the path were you can pray for a bigger set of lungs to help you on your way. The struggle was worth it though since the top yielded panoramic views of the area, including over the town and out to the Isla del Sol.

Back on ground level we ventured to the town's other attraction- the moorish style cathedral that stands near the market square. It turned out to be pretty attractive in a unique sort of way with stylings of a mosque but we couldn't figure out why a land of devout catholics would choose to build a church in what to them would be a heathanistic style.

Exhausting the sights of the town, we headed back to our hotel to try the set lunch that they offered. We ended up opting for tongue strew as despite the name, it smelled great. I was a little put off at first by the thought of eating tongue but it turned out to be just like beef steak and was served in a delicious spicy gravy- yum! The remainder of the day was taken up with buying supplies to take over to the island since it was obvious that everything would cost more over there. It was a trade off between this and knowing that we would have to carry anything we bought up the steep set of Inca stairs from the harbour up to the town on Isla del Sol.

The following morning we headed down to the lake front where kiosks sold tickets for the boat trip over to the island. We choose to go to the south of the island where there was a greater choice of accommodation, paying only 10 Bs (£1) each. Of course we had no change and tried to pay with a 100Bs note only to be thwarted. We really needed some change though so held firm and sat around waiting for more people to turn up and buy tickets and in the end the ticket guy submitted and brought us over the 80Bs in change that we so desperately needed.

The next challenge was actually getting the boat to depart. Of the 30 or so tourists that turned up, only three (including us!) were on the boat to the south of the island and the rest were on a boat going to the north. Someone translated that they wouldn't leave without at least 5 people so we sat there for a while thinking that our trip to the Isla del Sol was over before it began. Thankfully after 20 minutes of waiting a big group of locals came and boarded so we were on our way.

The hour and a half boat ride passed swiftly as we sat looking at the beautiful scenery before docking up on the island. No sooner than we got off the boat than a lady confronted us to buy a ticket for entry into the village which would be an extra 5Bs (50p). She'd come out onto the pier to capture people before they reached dry land and we weighed up our options of either paying up or pushing her into the water and making a run for it :-)

From the beach we had to ascend the 'Inca Stairs' running up the hill to reach the village an extra couple of hundred meters above the lake. Now this would be tiring normally but we both had our huge backpacks on so it ended up being a slow 15 minute march with several rest stops at which local kids pestered us to go and stay at their family hostal. Reaching the top, we headed straight for the hostal that we'd planned to stay at and were amazed at what £5 could buy us- a nice big room with comfy double bed and view out over the lake & snowy mountains in the distance- fantastic!

The island plays a big part in Inca culture, along with its smaller neighbour, the Isla del Luna and they believe that it is the place where their civilisation began. After recovering from our hike up the hill, we set off for an explore of the place. The small town at the southern end of the island was quite picturesque, set on the hill side amongst eucalyptus forests and had obviously seen a tourist boom in recent years since there were many hotels and restaurants but walking around, we seemed to be the only ones there so their was an air of peace and quiet surrounding us- something we hadn't had in a while!

We'd planned to go to the north side of the island but after about half an hour, we were accosted at another checkpoint to buy a ticket letting us into the north, this time costing 15Bs each. Since it was over 16km there and back, we decided to climb the hill up to the highest point of the island for some panoramic views all around. That evening we went out for a bite to eat at dusk, watching the sun set over the lake from a little cafe while our omelettes were being cooked. Of course it was dark by the time we went back and since their was no moon, it was a tricky scramble in the near pitch black back to our hotel which took about twice as long.

As there was no ATM in Copacabana, we'd nearly exhausted our supply of Bolivanos that we'd changed at the border so only had enough cash for one night's stay on the island. Bright and early we set off back down the Inca steps to the harbour and bought tickets (at twice the price of the outward journey, very cheeky but of course short of swimming, people have no other choice!). The hour and a half trip back to the mainland felt like it took longer than on the way out (but still pretty) and we walked back up to the main town square to find a bus to La Paz and luckily enough there was one leaving in a few minutes with a couple of spare seats. We slung our bags on the roof and squashed in to our allotted seats at the back of the bus for the three and a half hour ride to La Paz.

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