From the breathtaking scapes of Southern Bolivia, we ventured northwards to Lago Titicaca, Lake Titicaca, to explore this mythic place regarded by the Inca as the birthplace of the Sun, and is home to several temple and ruin sites. My grandparents visited this region in the sixties/seventies and the images of the deep blue water and terraced farmlands intrigued my little mind back then, so to be driving there and seeing those very textures for myself was something so special. I often wondered how much things had changed from when they visited because little seemed different from those old photos. We were visiting for three days, the first two, namely Christmas eve and Christmas day would be spent on the Isla de Sol and the last evening we would be sleeping in Copacabana, a vibrant town used as a ferry point to the infamous Inca island.
Our journey began with an all-night bus trip to La Paz from Uyuni – the bumpiest bus ride of my life – I was convinced my teeth were going to rattle their way out of my jaw. After arriving in La Paz around 7, we bought a quick cup of coffee from one of the traders in the bus station; I wished I had snapped a pic of the stall – it felt like a window into granny’s kitchen, and our cafe con leche was served to us in red ceramic mugs…it was strangely comforting after a long bus ride. A brush of the teeth and change of pants and we were off on our next four hour trip to the Lake.
Traffic in the La Paz gives Jozi’s jam a serious run for their money.
Ferry crossing on our journey to Copacabana…this was a little hair-raising, watching your bus, with your beloved bag stowed neatly on board, mount a wooden boat…but it got safe and sound to the other side!
Being greeted by gods, has an effect:)
Our final ferry for the day…from Copacabana to the legendary Isla de Sol.
Original inca-built steps, one of the first of many ruins we were to encounter on this little island.
Smiles are hiding fluttery hearts, weak knees, sad lungs trying with all their might to suck in oxygen as we climbed the two hundred steps at 3800km above sea-level- altitude is again not something to be taken lightly.
Our newly-made friends in the background were scampering up and down the steps doing our route about five times over as they came to cheer us on and fed us herbs to help our little bodies cope with the strain and lack of oxygen on the hour long walk to our hostel at the top of the hill – sad gringos we were.
Our hostel was so worth the trek, with rooms with lake views, quaint breakfasts, and good old fashioned local hospitality – they did not mention how rigorous the ‘walk’ up to the hill is and at the time I was cursing, but staying on the port-side of the island gets pretty touristy. If you are looking for laid back and rustic, this is it - Hostal Inti Kala
All the huffing and puffing was suddenly worth it when we ended the day looking over this. And sipping on this.
The braying of a sleepy donkey and this view put us to sleep. The end to a long day. Little did we know what we would be waking up on Christmas morning! But that is for another post!
Happy Friday friendlings, hope you are planning exciting adventures somewhere over the festive season!
xxx
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