Cake, Chocolate Cake and Cards then CUSCO


A rainy day of cards and cake eating. Something I hadn't done in ages and it was good to finally be able to eat food again.


A pretty savage over night bus journey. Palpably on the tourist route, next destination CUSCO! The bus was full, full of people like us. Sadly, it felt a bit like a Club Med 18 - 30's. Strands of conversation people talking about partying and all the coke they had taken in La Paz. Can't help but feel quite sad that with all this area has to offer, Andean spiritual mysticism, conquest, exploration, nature, landscape, textiles, stone carvings, comida, this place has it all, yet these days it's little more than an ambient backdrop for cheap thrills and traveller kicks. Unfortunately I'm one of those travellers. I hate myself right now. 


I was in Cusco a few years ago and I kind of hated it. Blasphemy! Sorry, I know it's a bit of a traveller's holy grail being the gate way to the Inca trail, all the archeological sites in the area and of course the main event Machu Picchu. It's just a shame to have to share it all with so many hoards of people, gushing about how great it is. I think travel can be quite personal, I like to be stuck in my own head with all my thoughts and musings and not have to listen to the profound effect it had on someone I only just met. Whatever.


It's beautiful, don't get me wrong. But I was working for an NGO that was nothing more than a tourist info point and after precious few days of not getting paid and attempting to answer middle-aged traveller's questions when I knew absolutely nothing, being treated like shit by the clients and management alike, I was a bit sick of the place. Where to turn to? The night life was crap. In London at least you can escape the daily grind if you're not happy by going out, there are so many great places to escape to at night in London, but I was stuck in the Andes. Unimaginative club scene and too much of a division between tourists and locals. And, yes, all those backpackers who have made it to this part of the world just to snort a ton of cocaine. Yawn.


Didn't really feel like I was going to get much out of the experience.


With a constantly bad stomach and not appreciating the massive drop in temperature each night I stayed in to smoke, watch crap American tv and drink tea.


I fled, I fled fast, at the time I never planned on going back, only, I never made it to Machu Picchu so here I am, night bus Puno - Cusco.


Strange.

Source: marksblog94.blogspot.com

I really hope I don't bump into my old boss!

Puno - The Floating Islands

I loved the floating islands. They were better than I thought they would be, there are a few hundred of them on the lake facing Puno. They do quite literally float, they're made from the reeds which grow naturally on the lake. It's bizarre, the sensation of walking on a floating pile of straw. The islands are attached to the bottom of the lake at a couple of points so they don't move, but they can be moved and pinned elsewhere.

They're largely fisherman and artisans, descendants of a tribe fleeing from the brutal and bloodthirsty but evidently lazy Incas who couldn't be bothered to pursue them on the water and left them alone on the lake.

It was amazingly peaceful being on the floating islands, I don't know if it was the setting and the novelty of being on something so unique or trying to appreciate and imagine a life in these straw huts on a floating village on a huge mountain lake. Really HOW do these people live? What do you do when you live on an island that is only a few square meters? What sort of contact nowadays do they have with dry land and the community in Puno?

I really was dumbfounded thinking about it.

The islands as seen from a distance as we made out way on the boat

The reeds that make the islands AND the houses on the islands

Some really cool mobiles and ceramics for sale - pretty much their only source of income apparently

I bought one of these but sadly its not as vibrantly colourful as the ones in these photos

Their boats!!

Amazing clouds - still at pretty high altitude so sometimes the clouds seems abnormally low

Quechua!

Cooking pots, really cool ones at that

A very cute puppy

A gimick, but you can write a postcard on the 'capital' island and pop it in the post box. I didn't...

Protest!

Bright and early we set off to for Puno, Peru. Once on the bus they warned us that there might be a blockade and therefore we'd need to change buses and walk for 20 MINS MAX.

This was a lie. At the border the blockade was confirmed in Ilave. A protest. We sorted customs and changed our left over Bolivians for Soles.

My backpack is a beast. It must stand at about 20Kg but adding my smaller day pack which is also heavy. I reckon I'm carrying close to half my body weight, needless to say, a 20 minute walk is a challenge, a crippling challenge. When we got to Ilave we got off the bus and loaded up, we started walking up a pretty mean hill and there were many more. I couldn't help but notice that the only people we saw coming in the other direction were travellers like us rather than locals. I couldn't help but think, this protest doesn't impact Peruvians so what's the point?

Every so often there were stones stretching out across the road a few people sitting around but all in all the beginning of the protest seemed like a tame affair. It wasn't until my shoulders were screaming with pain and we'd been walking for a good half an hour or longer that we got to the main hub. Fires in the road, police in riot gear. At no point were we frightened or worried that we would get caught in the crossfire.

I kept asking people who we passed, how much further until the end. The response was varied but mostly - oh not that far. Lies! I was getting to the point where my back was so painful that it was actually a strangely nice sensation. I cross the pain/pleasure boundary, the pain got so bad it was good. I wasn't looking to cross this physical boundary, but I had no choice but to continue and try and get to the end. I'm surprised that I had it in me.

When the ordeal was over and we were safely inside a hostel in Puno, fed, unloaded and comfortable I think I was the most physically exhausted I've ever been in my life. My body was spent.

Not surprisingly, I didn't have the energy to get my camera out during this whole ordeal, but when we finally surfaced and went out to take a look at Puno and find a cheap meal.

Isla del Sol


I just about felt human and normal again so we decided to take a look at the Sun Island. I was far more impressed by the sheer size of the lake we were on than the island itself. The trip, was in fact, fraught with communication issues. They mis-sold us boat tickets to be dropped off one end of the island and get picked up from the other. Apparently different companies run different routes but they wouldn't come straight out and tell us this, they preferred instead to lie. We wanted to do the walk. We knew it was possible, it was frustrating not being given honest information.


The ruins were pleasant set against the back drop of the lake.


Made some new friends and trampled some poor Bolivian farmers crops. We went off piste because some in the group weren't happy about being charged to cross through some of the check points on the walk.


Happily the day ended with hot chocolate.