Lake Titicaca
Bolivia
In just over 24 hours, we had travelled by bus from Cabanaconde in the Colca Canyon to Puno on Lake Titicaca, crossed the border into Bolivia, then continued on to Copacabana, on the opposite side of the lake to Puno. Along the way, we passed herds of llamas, alpacas, vicuñas and flamingos, chilling out on the sparse plains and shallow pools of water.
Sitting on buses for so many hours had been exhausting, resulting in Danny taking it easy when we finally arrived in Copacabana. I did no such thing. Instead, I opted for a 17 km hike along the coast of Lake Titicaca, the largest lake in South America (it was so big I often couldn't see the other side, making me feel like I was beside the ocean). A slow taxi ride dropped me off at Yampupata, a point that looked out at the popular Isla del Sol. It was an easy walk back to town down a dirt road with little traffic. The hike was mostly flat with a few small hills thrown in, each through a shady eucalyptus forest. Views of the water were few and far between, and most of the time was spent on long stretches of road between crumbling villages rather than by the lake. I couldn't say the scenery was mind-blowing, but I appreciated the brief occasions I had to hear the water lapping against the shore.
When I eventually arrived back in Copacabana, I picked up Danny and we spent the evening hopping between rooftop bars overlooking the boat-filled harbour and watching the sunset over the water. Away from the touts it was a peaceful, if ramshackle, place, with a surprising number of vegan options. It was also much cheaper than Peru, and the favourable exchange rate meant our money went a long way in Bolivia.
The following morning, we jumped on a boat and set sail for Isla del Sol, the largest island in Lake Titicaca and Copacabana's main tourist attraction. We landed on the north side of the island, from where we wandered through a village and past a school. Watching the children play outside, it seemed that the most popular activity was marbles - yes, that early 20th century game. Once we left the village behind, it was just us and the island, hiking along an easy gravel and rock path.
Lake Titicaca sits at 3,800 m and much of our hike centred around 4,000 m, forcing us to slow down to draw in the oxygen. It wasn't long before we spotted our first set of Incan ruins. With no signs or information available, we didn't really know what we were looking at. From there, we continued south along the main tourist trail, climbing up small hills to lookouts to admire the lake views out both sides. Large birds circled overhead, while the occasional donkey gave us a wary eye. As vehicles are prohibited on Isla del Sol, it was generally a quiet, peaceful hike. Several other tourists were completing the same trek as us, but we found ourselves alone most of the time.
Frequently, we were transported to other countries we have visited over the years. The deep blue of the water reminded us of the Mediterranean, while snow-capped peaks in the distance and small villages took us back to Nepal. Gazing over ruins in the middle of a dry, bare landscape was reminiscent of Albania, and the occasional eucalyptus forest brought back memories of Australia. Yet this was all on one island in Bolivia. It was stunning, and far better than anything I saw on yesterday's hike.
From the main town of Yumani on the southeast coast, we completed a small loop of the southern section of the island. Spectacular views over the mainland were found at multiple points, while the relatively intact archaeological site Templo del Sol held a commanding position over the water. On our way back to Yumani, where we had booked a room for the night overlooking the lake, we made a quick tour through the town. Roughly 90% of the buildings were hostels, spread up and down a steep slope, with the occasional restaurant or store thrown in. Given the considerable amount of accommodation available, we weren't surprised to find we were the only patrons at our guesthouse.
For dinner, we ventured out to a restaurant looking out to the west (as opposed to our east-facing room). The sunset was possibly the most spectacular we had seen on our travels, causing me to repeatedly leave my meal to take yet more photos. It was the perfect way to cap off what had been a fantastic day of exploring Isla del Sol.
With time to spare before catching the ferry back to Copacabana, I made a quick dash up to a lookout over Yumani and the coast. The sun was shining and I had the place to myself. The view was sensational, but I didn’t have long to appreciate it before the boat was due to leave.
In Copacabana, we were booked to catch the bus back to Puno, in Peru, at 2 p.m., giving me just enough time for a brief detour up to the lookout Cerro Calvario. Although there was a clear, popular path to the top from the centre of town, my map showed a second route from the harbour, where I had just disembarked from the ferry. The trail was clear at first, but it quickly disintegrated as I climbed higher up a precarious rock face. It wasn't long before I was scrambling, my hands searching for nooks and crannies to haul myself up. Twice I found myself way off course, and it took some educated guesses and experimentation to eventually arrive at the lookout. In the end it was worth it, with sweeping views across Copacabana and the Titicaca below. Hundreds of locals were lining up on the summit in front of a tiny shrine, each person armed with a variety of offerings. Combined with the stalls running along each side of the lookout, there wasn't much space to move around.
I took the regular, wide, easy to see, no scrambling involved path back down to town.
After rushing around to grab a takeaway lunch and find Danny, we arrived at the bus stop to be told we couldn't get our bus back to Peru. 'Why?' we asked. 'The border is closed.' A thousand thoughts raced through my mind as I wondered how this was going to impact the rest of our trip. The woman went on to explain that there was a festival today, happening right on the border, and no one could get through. It would reopen at 5 p.m., she said, and we could transfer our ticket to the 6 p.m. bus (it was now 1.30 p.m.). We have completed a lot of border crossings in our time but this was definitely a first. It was unbelievable how many festivals we had come across in South America, and lately almost every town we visited had parades, music and road closures. Without much choice, we signed up for the later bus then wondered how to occupy the rest of the afternoon after we had just spent the remainder of our Bolivian money. It was a long, mind-numbing wait.
