Island hopping on a whim ... Reflections all around

---

Anyone who has ever traveled with an infamous "buddy pass" before knows all about the uncertainty tied with this type of traveling, which often times leads to frustration... The sweet sight of a smiling gate agent who hands you a boarding pass at the last minute is one of life's greatest relief!

Though I certainly can't complain, having had the opportunity to travel the world with such perks, my "buddy pass experience" in Lima has not been so fortunate.

To give you some boring, yet unfortunately important background, Delta only has one flight out of Lima to the States (Atlanta) per day. Moreover, as luck would have it, July is the busiest month to travel in and out of Peru, which means that flights are packed every day. To make matters worse, South American flights have a strict cargo weight restriction which means that even if there are opens seats on the plane, often times, the airline will not fill these empty seats with stand by passengers due to the fact that they've already reached their weight quota.

So after the 3rd attempt to catch a flight home out of Jorge Chavez International Airport, and having told the Delta employees that I would shed all my luggage and run around the airport however many times it took for me to make the weight requirement, I felt like giving up - I failed, yet again. Accompanied by my gracious host, Ines, who had so kindly taken me to the airport twice already, I felt defeated as I was once again greeted by the all too familiar gate agent who yet again announced to the stand-by crew that no one would be getting onboard tonight...

With a great deal of despair and desperation, I looked at Ines who was all dressed up and ready to meet her friends out to indulge in the typical Saturday night festivities; at which point I (half-jokingly) threw out the idea of hopping on the next cheapest flight and getting out of Lima for a while. Somewhat taken back at first, yet with grace, poise and elegance, she emphatically concurred with this crazy impulse. "Let's do it!" she responded... "I've always wanted to show up at the airport and pick a place to go at the last minute," she joyfully added. After a slight trip back down to rational land, I thought to myself... "why the hell not!?" The Delta availability for the next 3 days was looking bleak and my chances of getting back home were very poor; so instead of staying in Lima and making daily futile trips to the airport, we both thought that a quick getaway to (???) would be a far better option and a great way to make the most out of both of our time off.

Within minutes, we made our way to the LAN airlines counter, where we were greeted by a friendly agent to whom Ines announced our sporadic plan. She loved it, and after hearing the full story, she was determined to find us a great deal. With our new friend's help and fueled by several pisco sours, we decided on Puno, a relatively small fishing village which straddles the Bolivian border and serves as the home base to explore Lake Titicaca, a grandiose lake which sits at 12,500 ft above sea level, making it one of the highest navigable lakes in the world and the largest lake in South America.

It was about 1 am and our flight would depart at 4:30 am - plenty of time to get back to Ines' place for he to take off her dancing shoes and make up, pack a small bag with the basics and make it back to the airport before boarding! I was thrilled given that this was the one area of Peru that I had unfortunately left out and really wanted to see on this trip. Coincidentally, Ines had also always wanted to check out this area and had never had a chance to make it out there. The next two hours went by so fast and the next thing I knew, we were both sitting on a plane about to take off as the sun was slowly rising over Lima on a hazy Sunday morning... Off we went!

A quick and seamless 2 hour flight later, we grabbed our bags, found a shuttle and made our way to Puno. Naturally, we were exhausted but that lethargy was highly overshadowed by our excitement. Moreover, I was psyched to be traveling with a local - a gregarious extrovert who has an uncanny ability to find the greatest deals, might I add! A short hour later, we get to Puno's central plaza and after a much needed desayuno with an extra order of coffee to boot. We then navigated our way through the small city square to find Puno's tourist information desk, just as the agency was opening up. It was a beautiful day, a nice change from the foggy Lima weather we had left behind. A quick glimpse at the luminous, glimmering lake in the background, provided the euphoria needed to combat that last bit of drag...I felt instantly rejuvenated.

After discussing our options, we thought that an overnight skip to Copacabana (not to be confused with the famous Brazilian beach), an island on the Bolivian side of the lake, was our best bet. This would subsequently leave us with two more days in Puno to explore the nearby Peruvian islands. Thanks to Ines' inquisitive and persuasive banter, we found the cheapest option to get to the Bolivian border, which would then be a short taxi ride over to Copacabana, about 8 km away.

Staying consistent with the "roughing it" appeal of this impulsive trip, we decided to talk to the bus terminal with our bags, through the heat, to the bus terminal, which was about a mile away. Zig-zagging through the charming cobblestone streets, we eventually found our way to the elusive terminal and boarded the next local bus to Yunguyo (the border town), which set us back $2 each and which would take us about 2 1/2 hours to get to. Having chosen the most economical mode of transportation, it wasn't surprising when we realized that we were the only non-locals inside the bus which was packed to the brim and which loosely held our bags with a precarious home-made net on the roof. Again, we were filled with so much excitement (and caffeine), that we didn't care, but rather welcomed the unknown. We were also eager to cross the Bolivian border, something we had both wanted to do for a while. So we finally made it to our destination, and, as soon as we stepped into the dusty streets of Yunguyo, we were told that we needed to take a quick taxi ride over to the actual border, where we would have to subsequently show our passports and go through customs - pretty standard, it seemed. On the way to the immigration office, we changed enough Peruvian "soles" into "Bolivianos" to get us through the next couple days - a very modest sum...

Then, the debacle began! I had read in my trusty travel guide book, that border crossing, though long and painfully boring at times, was safe and, for the most part, uncorrupted. The proper procedure was to go through the Peruvian side first to obtain an "exit stamp," and then cross over the Bolivian side, a few feet away to get an "entry stamp." Pretty straightforward right? Not so much! I had researched the visa situation before the trip and knew that with a US passport, travelers wold have to get a $100 visa in order to enter Bolivia. Being a dual citizen has always given me a distinct advantage throughout my travels, having been able to escape the sometime exorbitantly expensive visas needed to enter certain countries with a US passport - Bolivia being such a place. I had come into Peru with my US passport (no visa needed there) and after contemplating the idea of crossing over to Bolivia, I had asked Jordan to see if he could take my French passport with him on his way down - just in case I would be able to make it to Bolivia. He graciously obliged.

So leaving Peru was not a problem - we swiftly made our way through the small immigration office and we were in and out of there in a matter of minutes. I should give credit to where it's due though and acknowledge the fact that it was thanks to Ines' vernacular perfection - something I would have clearly not been able to do without her... So we get to the Bolivian side effortlessly, at which point, we see a small obstructed sign pointing to the customs office a few feet away...

The scene which ensued felt like it was straight out of a bad 1970s cop movie where macho "interrogators" with thick mustaches and even thicker (false) senses of empowerment walk around stuffy holding cells trying to scare the living crap out of the vulnerable protagonists. Enter Alex and Ines - the protagonists and the holding cell - the Bolivian immigration office. After presenting my French passport with conviction, the customs agent, if you can call them such, flipped through it several times nd then proceeded to ask me in Spanish, "how did you get into Peru?" "With my US passport," I replied instantaneously, showing him the entry and exit stamp located right next to each other. Somewhat confused at first, yet hiding any emotions, he walked over to who appeared to be his supervisor; and after a quick huddle, he came back towards us and explained to Ines that I needed to pay $150 in order to get into the country. "That's ridiculous!" I shouted... Not only would I not need a visa with a French passport, but if I did need one, the cost would be $100, and not $150, a substantial difference especially in that part of the world! Again, with Ines' linguistic help, I was able to convey my frustration and my subsequent refusal to pay this obscene amount just so that I could hop over the border for a day and a half. Absolutely not! As the conversation between Ines and the corrupt agents grew more and more heated, I realized that the intransigence of these guys would only be succumbed by a bribe... There were not about to let a gringo into their country without getting greased in the process.

The eventually lowered the "entry fee" to $50 and told us that I would be able to just get in without a stamp that way and that we would make a "deal." "Bullshit... That's outlandish!" Why in the hell would I pay to illegally enter the country with no legitimate trace of my presence whilst in Bolivia? I realized I've made some questionable decisions in the past, some bordering on the "unsafe" in terms of conventional wisdom, but I was not about to do something this stupid and give into their twisted, corrupt system! It's not the money that bothered me; it was the fact that his would be a blatant bribe which not only highlighted the dysfunctional Bolivian bureaucracy, but would put me us in a risky situation. What if anything happened to us while we were there? there would be no footprints or legal documentation which would confirm our presence in Bolivia. So after discussing it over, we agreed that it was a dumb risk to take, not to mention feeding into the corruption and "giving in" to these stached faux-cops. So after being told that we were never welcomed back, we turned around and crossed back over to the Peruvian border, where we explained to the much friendlier officer what had happened. Naturally, I snapped a quick shot of the border so that I could at least have some documentation of my brief time in Bolivia.

It was about 4 pm at this point and since we wouldn't explore the Lake through the Bolivian side, our only option was to head back to Puno the same way we came in... So 2 1/2 hours later, after having witnessed a beautiful sunset through the dirty bus windows (which offset the not so beautiful corrupted Bolivian attitude we had just encountered), we were back in Puno! Both exhausted, it was an easy decision to check into a nicer hotel (by local standards). Plus we would be really "roughing it" the following night as we had made plans to stay with a local family on one of the islands. We knew we would have to get up early the next day to catch a boat so we made it an early, quiet night, crashing around 10 pm, not before feasting on some delicious local trout from straight from the lake served with a tasty quinoa and potato casserole (or something like it). What a day!!!

Well-rested and pleasantly satiated by the complimentary breakfast, the next day, we took down a few cups of coca tea to combat altitude sickness (something I wish I had done in Huaraz!) We then headed to the port, priced out different options and settled on a $20 boat journey, which would include a visit to Isla Inos, Isla Amanat i(where we would spend the night), and the famous island of Isla Taquile, the following day before returning back to Puno by 3 pm, with plenty of time to make our 9 pm flight back to Lima. Perfect.

The boat ride was great, despite being surrounded by Frenchies, who accounted for about 80% of the vessel's nationality! I have not met that many French tourists on my trip until now, but apparently, Peru is a very popular destination, as it turns out, pour les Francais. The first stop on Isla Unos was not particularly enjoyable or memorable. It felt very "forced" and somewhat exploitative. There we were, on this tiny island, where the local indigenous community had set out arts and crafts for us to purchase and where the parents would urge the tourists to take photos with their children dressed in traditional outfits for a modest sum of one sole (about 30 cents). Call me cynical but I feel like in a way this form of "neo-colonialism" is a poor display of insensitive tourism. I came back to the boat and fell asleep.

When we docked on Isla Amanati, we were greeted by our respective "family" who would show us the way to their houses, where we would spend the night. Janette, our smiling host for the evening, who also happened to be the Captain's daughter, guided us to her modest casa, which we eventually got to after a steep, uphill hike through the majority of the island. Ines was great sport about it. Clearly, the combination of the altitude and the treacherous terrain provided some difficulty, but she never once complained about it! So we finally get to Janette's house, dropped our bags off in the basic, non-electrified room and were promply thereafter served a copious meal which consisted of a delicious quinoa and vegetable soup followed by a strange (nonetheless tasty) mix of different types of locally-grown potatoes varying in shape, color size and taste, and smeared by a giant slice of what surely was locally made cheese. Not your typical light lunch, but a great culinary experience all the same. As with every meal in this region, we finished this one with a cup of tea, which in this case, was more of an infusion with some sort of local herbs, which resembled and smelled like thyme... Surely it would help with the altitude! After lunch, we spend the afternoon wondering around the island, which was filled with beautiful lake vistas and extremely friendly people. We eventually lost track of time and it became dark very fast, at which point we both realized that the only source of light we could rely on was the dim reflection form the playback function on my camera. So it goes... Before attempting to make our way back to Janette's house, we stocked up on candles, a bottle of water as well as an over-priced , yet highly appreciated bottle of Chilean red wine.

Like lunch, dinner consisted of the familiar soup, followed this time by a veggie and rice concoction which was not particularly special but provided some much needed warmth from the dramatic drop in temperature. We bid Janette and the rest of the guest 'buenas noches' and called it a night after finishing off our delicious bottle of red wine, sans glasses, in the small candle-lit room in a concerted effort to forget about the brutal cold around us. Reluctant to leave the room and venture into the frigid darkness, Ines was determined to hold in any urinary needs until sunrise. I couldn't do it and made the somewhat adventurous pilgrimage on several occasions!

The next morning, we woke up to a crisp, beautifully clear day and after a quick breakfast, we boarded our boat en route to our final island, Isla Taquile, which was about an hour away, mas o menos. Once we got there, we were unexpectedly confronted with a 400+ step journey to the top of the island. Again Ines was a trooper and managed to succumb the challenge with little difficulty (at least she hid it well!) Once at the top, the view was stunning: a crystal blue lake, 14,000+ feet above sea level, surrounded by blindingly white glaciers under a perfectly clear azul sky- a mesmerizing site! We took a few pictures, walked around, and found a great little sunny spot to have breakfast #2, which in my case, consisted of another quinoa soup (love those things!) Before we knew it, it was time to go back down the steps (which proved to be much easier this time around) and headed back to the boat to set sail for our return journey to Puno, 3 hours away.

Safely back on mainland, we returned to the hotel where we showered and picked up the bags that we had left behind, opting for a small day bag, which in hindsight, could have used a LOT more warm clothes! We had a couple hours to kill so we wondered around town, grabbed some pizza, had a couple of obligatory pisco sours, and made our way back to the airport. I'll never forget the look we gave each other after the agent at the LAN counter informed us that our return ticket was actually on August 4th, 2 weeks from now! I'm still not sure, to this day, how this happened, but somehow in the midst of our excitement and impulsive decision to "go anywhere," we forgot to double check the travel documents which did indeed indicate that we would be in Puno for 2 weeks, as opposed to the 3 days we had both decided on! Ines had to go back for work the next day and I had to try my luck again to fly back to the States. So it really wasn't an option to stick with the ticket dates. Much to our disappointment, but somewhat subdued by the comic nature of the situation, we payed the $175 to get on that evening's flight. To quote the cliche Mastercard commercial, the story and the overall trip would be priceless in comparison!

So we made it back to Lima, just in time for me to march over to the Delta counter to once again find out that the flight to the US was full and that I wouldn't be able to get back tonight. Urggggghhhh! So back to Lima it was, a city that I started to be familiar with! The ensuing blatant, and yet familiar feeling of frustration was thankfully relieved by the fact that I had just spent 3 amazing days on the world's highest navigable lake.

Needless to say, i eventually did make it back to the States, after a 10 hour layover in Bogota, Colombia (which necessitates its own blog entry!) In hindsight, as I write from a comfortable air-conditioned apartment in Washington DC - completely antithetical to Janette's cold, dark, house, I would have gladly stayed a few extra days on the Lake, and in Peru, and in South America! Such is life though... My travels, this time around, had to come to an end... But yet again, thanks to Delta, and thanks to Ines and everyone I met on the road, I can honestly say that I am more appreciative, patient and hopefully more perceptive and complete. I am also reminded, that Henry Miller was spot on when he said that “one’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.”

---

Comments

[jalil]

buddy
you gotta love those buddy passes i have never had such feelings of angst and relief as when traveling on those.