on peru: lake titicaca adventure

Went to bed fully clothed, under layers of blankets and still rise feeling the hollow cold that comes with high altitude. We were given a quick breakfast before being hustled down to the quayside, barley giving us a chance to say good-bye to our hosts and leave some small parting gifts.

Swiftly board the H.M.S Leaky Bottom and make way on a 2 hour steam to neighbouring Taquile for a guided walk and lunch. The water is choppy for a boat of this size, but in reality is very calm, with clear skies and a bright sun overhead. Nonetheless some are still suffering from the gentle rocking and head outside for fresh air.

The pier at Amantani creates a small marina for shelter. Taquile’s sticks out into the water offering little of anything. Rising ahead of us is the rocky slopes of this long, thin island. A nicely-laid stone path crawls around the island to where the centre of the community, a pleasant square, sits on a plateau on the terraces. The square is fringed on three sides with stone buildings, a chapel, and is open along its Eastern edge, providing a sweeping view over the lake to Bolivia. Here we took a break to enjoy the peace and quiet before being guided onwards to a house on the other side of the ridge where we would have lunch.

As we squeezed through the narrow gaps between the buildings, we were dropped onto a wonderful terrace overlooking the lake. A long table had been laid and set, underneath a pale yellow canvas awning, bathing the space in a dull glow, shielding us from the intense sun. The view was truly astounding, and not for the first time I’d felt we were perched on the Mediterranean coast instead of an island lake in Peru.

My lake-gazing was interrupted by our host, wearing the traditional attire of the island’s inhabitants (not dissimilar to that of the reed island inhabitants), who gave us a small talk of his life here. This was followed with our lunch, a vegetable soup, and roasted trout from the lake. The dinner was a welcome change from what we’d had on the trek and left me feeling quite satisfied. A cold beer to follow this up was just the perfect accompaniment to kick back and relax, lazily staring out over the sapphire waters.

Sadly paradise isn’t permanent, and we were back on the boat and making for Puno before the cold of the beer had left me. The steam back was at least 3 hours if not more. By the time we arrived back in Puno the clouds were slowly blotting out the sun, leaving us a little down and out after the day’s auspicious start. Collectively we missed Cuzco’s cobbled streets and did not look forward to another rainy night in Puno’s congested streets. Relaying this to our guide we quickly elected for the night bus back home. We would have some time to ourselves before boarding later in the evening for a gunshot ride to the Incan heartland.

Note: overnight buses are rarely pleasant, regardless of class or destination.

Arriving in Cuzco around 3am we were thrilled to see our home away from home – Ecopackers Hostel! Checking in under the cover of darkness, I scurried up to my room and quickly went to sleep, exhausted from the patchy sleep on the bus.

on peru: lake titicaca adventure

Rising with the sun, we packed our gear and mad ourselves presentable before being ferried down to the docks. Here we boarded a small tour boat which took us out onto the lake. I was immediately struck by the intensity of the sun. At this altitude there is less atmosphere to protect my feeble, Scottish skin from the harsh UV rays – you can almost feel your skin fizzling!

It was the sheer size of the lake that struck me next, and we weren’t even out of the bay and into the main body of water yet! Our guide (loose term in his case) showed us a map, on which the bay of Puno (our current location) was a tiny annexe to the massive sea of fresh water that made up the rest of the lake. He also attempted to liken the shape of Titicaca to a puma – something Peruvians seem to apply to just about everything. Though it takes a certain amount of pisco to see the puma on that map.

Our’s was a slow speed. Ploughing away through the reed forests until emerging before one of many island communities, living on floating islands of reed and timber. Our guide informed us that these people were descended from the original inhabitants of the lake’s shores who fled the Spanish advance by moving onto the lake, living on boats, hidden amongst the reed-forest. Over time they developed a system of artificial islands, whereby they cut loose deep sections of the reeds’ root system, tying them together and layering reeds overtop. These islands are anchored with tall wooden stakes which can be seen sticking up out of the water like lonely, long dead trees.

We were taken to one of these islands, where the leader of this community described life on these islands and the trials of living on lake the size of a small ocean. Afterwards we were taken on a short 10minute boat ride onto the lake on one of the gondola-esque reed boats. Once back on the island we were shown into the small homes they lived in and forced to look interested in all the tat they were trying to sell us. It became clear that this part of the tour was really just an opportunity for the islanders to make some dough, which is perfectly fine but it would be nice if they made more of an effort to hide it!

From here we were another three hours in the boat until we were out of the bay and into the big water! The faraway shores are almost hidden by the curvature of the Earth, just the clouds and the mountainous landscape of Bolivia is visible. The water here was distinctly more choppy than in the sheltered bay. A few passengers were feeling the negative effects of sea sickness, though I’m pleased to say I’m not one of them 🙂

It wasn’t long before we reached the island of Amantani, where we would be spending the night in a home stay. The island looked quite barren, with two brown, rocky peaks, and a smattering of greenery near the shores. Small, concrete and render homes are spattered around, climbing the hillsides, narrow paths crisscrossing through bare fields and settlements. As we approached the island, the boat turned to dock on the short, stone jetty sticking out to form a sheltered hole against the storms which cross the lake.

We were welcomed by the families who were opening their homes to us for the night. Our group was broken up and led away, up the stoney paths and into the farms. I was led in a group of four by a young mother who’s home was just a few minutes away from the shore but sat atop an outcrop of rock with a spectacular view out across the lake. Here we were introduced to her husband and young son, before being given our lunch and allowed to wander off on our own. It being such a fine day, we elected to head down to the beach and sit down and enjoy the sun as it fried our skin.

After a few hours of lounging on the beach, we returned to our home stay for dinner and then a guided walk up to the island’s Eastern peak where we would wait to watch the sunset.

The walk up the hills was warm and breathless – Lake Titicaca sits at 3800m above sea level – taking us through terraces of brown, dry fields, waiting for the rainy season before filling with crops once again. As we came over the top of the ridge forming the spine of the island, we were treated to views across the lake, with large islands and peninsulas sticking out into the body of water. We continued up a stone path which took us to a simple temple at the top of the hill. From here we would watch the sun go down across the lake’s islands and mountains.

The custom at this temple is to pick up a stone, walk around three times, repeating a wish in your head, and then throwing the stone through the door into the empty square that is the temple – I wished for a Euromillions win. As the sun started to dip below the horizon, the heat quickly faded away and the breeze picked up. Though this made things a bit chilly, it didn’t dampen the beauty of the sunset.

As it got dark, we could see the frost starting to form on the ground. I made a beeline down the hills and back to our home stay before I was frozen. It wasn’t long before I had a few more layers on and had warmed up considerably. The evening’s entertainment was a party at the village hall where we could have beer and dance to the local’s version of the Gypsy Kings. We were given ponchos and hats, the girls received some proper Peruvian dress, and we were led back to the heart of the settlement and into a small, warm building which quickly became packed with the people from our tour boat, and the families who are hosting them.

We spent most of the night here dancing to pan flutes and bad guitar before being led back down to the house in the pitch black. Across the lake, thunderstorms were rolling over the shores of Bolivia, lighting up in fits and bursts of lightning. Overhead, the same carpet of stars we had enjoyed on the first night of our trek, were back again. The arching band of light that is the Milky Way stretched over head. Distinct colours and clouds of gas visible, even with my poor eyesight. it was a good finish to the day.

on peru: lake titicaca adventure

What a hangover! The night out was good but the punishment was so, so bad. With a 10 hour bus trip ahead of us to take us from Cuzco to Puno on Lake Titicaca, the entire team was looking forward to sleep, food, and fluids. However bad we were feeling surely did not compare to Joe who returned 10 minutes before we were supposed to leave! Needless to say he was very quiet for the majority of the journey.

Now, as it turns out we weren’t on a direct bus to Puno. We were on a tour bus which made a number of stops along the way. Any other day and I would have been very interested in hopping off and seeing what Peru had to offer. But today I was reeling with a hangover and was in no mood for any of it. Not a good attitude I know but it couldn’t be helped. 

The long road East took us through small, bleak towns where the majority of buildings are incomplete (apparently this is the result of some absurd Peruvian tax law where no one finishes their homes to save money), stopping of at museums which were little more than two-room houses with rocks on shelves. We got to stop for lunch which was a small relief – though the food was very poor. After that it was a straight shot to Puno, arriving as night began to fall. 

I do not doubt that the landscape and scenery would have been very impressive had it been sunny, but it wasn’t so we saw very little. The highlight of the trip was when we encountered some freaky Alpacas on one of our stops.

Puno was a nice sight, with a carpet of lights climbing the surrounding hills around the lake front. The city centre is a hive of activity. The streets are narrow, with buildings built hard up against the roads, often leaving little or now space for pedestrians as taxis and buses hurl up and down the streets. By this time it was raining, with waterfalls cascading down from high above, splashing into pools and rivers which flow down the streets towards the lake – Not sandal weather! There are people everywhere, milling around, avoiding the rain and waves of water thrown up as cars pass by.

We were led to our hostel, a long, narrow building reaching back from the street front. Our rooms had all the necessities; toilet, shower, sink, bed (I think the mattress was actually just planks of wood), and even a small TV which got some English channels (not that we’d waste a lot of time in our rooms). The rooms weren’t exactly stylish or clean but it had everything we needed. 

Our guide took us out for a chinese (hey we just fancied something fried!) and a short walk around the block. The rain was still coming down so we called it an early night as we’d be up and out again to catch the boat out onto the lake. 

I think we were unfair to Puno, just as we were to Lima. We weren’t in the best of spirits anyway, and with the weather, we allowed ourselves to just lump Puno onto the ‘shite’ list when we’d hardly seen a thing. If I’m ever in Peru again, I hope to pass through Puno and give it a second try.