After leaving La Paz for the second time, and saying farewell to my new friend Kylee, I took a bus to Copacobana, a small town on the Bolivian shores of Lake Titicaca (read a bit about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Titicaca). I treated myself to a nice hotel, a sister hotel of the Rosario in La Paz, and was rewarded with amazing views over the lake from my room. Unfortunately I was still suffering from some kind of altitude sickness, which was making it impossible for me to sleep at night as I kept having breathing problems. This had been going since I arrived in Cusco a few weeks ago and was really starting to get me down as I was so tired.
As a result, I missed the early boat next morning to the Isle del Sol (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Titicaca#Isla_del_Sol) on the lake, and had to take an afternoon boat. That kind of screwed my plans to just spend a day on the island so I decided I would spend the night there and spend the next full day walking. Its hard to imagine an island in the middle of a lake that is big enough that it takes the best part of a day to walk around. But then when you consider that the lake is 190km long, and has around 40 islands on it, including Isle del Sol which is 7km long, then you start to get an idea of how huge this lake it.
The boat takes a couple of hours to hit the south shore of the island, and from there it was a very long difficult walk up steps that are cut into the island as it rises up steeply from the water. A local boy jogged alongside me for a while and offered to carry my rucksack for a couple of Bolivianos. In the interests of helping the local economy (and saving my back!) I gladly let him take it. He also gave me a guide along the way, pointing out the direction of the Incan ruins and showing me indigenous plants that are used for cooking. He led me to a tiny village at the top of the islands´ steep sides, where there were a few restaurants and a couple of hostels. There were also the tiny houses of some of the islanders, with their small walled gardens in which grazed donkeys and pigs.
After dropping my bags in my room, which was lovely and bright with a huge window looking out onto the lake below, I decided to avoid the travellers who were gathering on the terrace for the sunset. I went for a walk towards where the boy said the Incan ruins where, but got distracted along the way by the beautiful setting of the island. I decided just to enjoy the walk rather than heading anywhere in particular.. after all, I´ve seen enough Incan ruins lately to last me a while. I came across a tiny restaurant hidden in a clump of imported eucalyptus trees, right on the western edge of the island with spectacular views of the lake and the setting sun. There were no other people around, just the friendly Bolivian woman who ran the ´restaurant´ (it was so small you could barely call it that, but the pizza was homemade and tasted great). The only sounds were the donkeys braying to each other across the island and the birds singing their last songs for the day. Once the sun had set, the temperature suddenly dropped and the woman beckoned me inside the house where she had set up a little table with a candle. Her young daughter was doing homework by candlelight, and after she had served my pizza, the woman picked up her knitting and carried on where she had left off. It was such a peaceful and quiet evening that I was in bed by 8pm.
Next morning, after getting up to watch the sunrise at 6am and then grabbing a few more hours sleep, I set off on my walk to the north side of the island. I was told this was about a 3 hour walk, and so I had plenty of time to make the boat that left from the north at 1:30pm. Walking on the island was like going back a few hundred years in time. I didn´t see a single tourist or traveller all day, only a very few locals who were herding their animals and going about their business. There are no cars, motorbikes, bicycles, planes, tvs or radios. The local women are all dressed in their traditional Bolivian dress, with brightly coloured blankets on their backs holding all their belongings, and often their babies too. They don´t talk much, like most Bolivians I had noticed, but generally would respond with a warm smile if I said "buenos dias" as I passed.
There were no signs for the north of the island, but as it was 7km long and only 1km wide, it was pretty easy even for me to see where to go. Having said that, I managed to miss the few sites that had been pointed out to me, and as I didn´t see any other tourists, I assume they must´ve walked a different way. But it was a really beautiful walk, unspoilt land, small farms, tiny houses with chimneys smoking. Towards the end, the path virtually disappeared and I found myself walking across a beach, then climbing up and around the steep rocky face of a hill, walking through wooded areas and hoping that I hadn´t taken a wrong turn somehow. But finally I made it to the port with an hour to spare, to wait for the boat with the group of tourists I had somehow missed all day!
That night, back in the hotel in Copacobana, I decided to take it easy again and have dinner in the hotel. Unfortunately I timed my stay with the arrival of a coach load of retired Irish golfers who had taken over the restaurant. One table kindly offered for me to join them, and it ended up being quite a lively night as they all got steadily more drunk. Their guide was some kind of Irish TV celebrity, I ended up lending him my charango and he had the whole restaurant singing songs about the different counties of Ireland, until I couldn´t take anymore and made my excuses!
Next morning was the mission to Puno, which meant crossing the border back into Peru. This time however, everything went smoothly and easily, and I arrived in Puno at lunchtime. There I met up with my Australian friend from La Paz and her tour group, and we all hit the town later that night after dinner... during which time I vaguely remember promising to go with them to Cusco for a "big night out" the next day...
