The S.A. Node: Islas Flotantes & Amantani

Early Mornin

*extremely long post, sorry for any errors

We left the bus station around 10:30 p.m. for Lake Titicaca. Having heard horror stories about bus crashes in South America I admit that I was a little nervous about the bus ride. Luckily, Tim and I had booked a “sleeper” bus (sleeper meaning if your 5’6” and Peruvian build) so we could at least get a few hours of semi-reclined rest before the arrival in the town of Puno. After chatting it up with the Canadians in front of us and taking a Benadryl we both were asleep before midnight. I only woke up a few times with the sensation of free falling, thinking that I was surely plummeting to my death with a bus full of twenty other people.

At 5:30 a.m. the next day we arrived in Puno. The air was much colder than in Cusco and I was met with a shock to the system no only by the frigid temperatures but also by the sunrise coming over the lake. We stood awestruck for a few minutes before trying to find our taxi. We managed to find our ride and as we were putting our bags in the car a girl approached us. She was wrapped in a blanket and had some crazy gypsy pants on. After less than 10 seconds of chatting with our driver it looked like there would be three of us along for the ride. We got dropped off at a two-room hostel that wasn’t much warmer than outside. Starving, we ordered bread and coffee in hopes that it would suffice until lunch. After breakfast a bus picked us up (including our new friend Segorlene) and drove us to the port to meet the boat. Before leaving port we bought a few gift of notebooks, pencils and oranges for the family we would be staying with on the island. I read in Lonely Planet that it is nice to bring the family gifts that are sometimes hard to acquire on the island.

In less than ten hours after leaving we were on our way to the floating islands of Lake Titicaca. Our tour group consisted of people from all over the globe including the typical Japanese travelers that continually gave us a laugh while living up to their stereotypes and a group of Spaniards that smoked and drank beer constantly. We first stopped at the Islas Flotantes (floating islands), getting an introduction from the President of the island on how these islands were built from the roots of reed plants. The islands were pretty impressive and each one contained about 5 families. The introduction and tour kind of felt like a show at Disney World but for the most part is was really interesting. After the Europeans bought all their souvenirs we left the island, leaving the locals to entertain another group of travelers.

Our next stop was at least a three hour boat ride so Tim, Segor and I soaked up the sun on the top deck, chatting about all sorts of things, all the while my Spanish was getting tested by our new amiga’s lack of English. On the way we had great views of the snow-capped peaks of Bolivia and Tim and I wondered how great it would be to extend our two-day trip into a few weeks of travel into Bolivia. Once we made it to the island of Amantani we were greeted by a group of locals, each of who we would get paired up with for meals and a warm bed. We took Segor under our wing and decided to have all three of us with the same family. We were introduced to Irma, the mother of the house that we were to stay. We followed her up the steep slopes made of old stones to her house, with her not breaking stride while she was knitting and talking. As we approached her house we saw the view of huge lake and high mountains. Irma showed us our rooms and introduced us to her husband Bautista and two sons’ Juan Jose and Peter. We ate our lunch of soup and vegetable then headed to the town center to start our hike to the highest point on the island to watch the sunset.

The climb took about an hour to get to the top as we passed farmers and herders along the way. We decided to take the lesser traveled of two routes to watch the sun go down. Each of us found a spot to watch the sunset and we sat perched looking over the water as the sun painted the sky a deep orange and dipped below the mountains. I decided to put down my camera after realizing no one could really understand the beauty of this place without seeing it themselves. The three of us all sat quiet without speaking until the cold wind, darkness and hunger forced us back down into town.

For dinner we ate another traditional meal prepared by Irma and we sat and talked with Bautista about the history of the island and his family that lives there. It was amazing to sit and listen to him speak about growing up on the island. He was a great host and made sure to speak slowly to those of us who were new to Spanish (only me, really). I was tired after dinner and was ready to look at the stars and go to bed but Bautista informed us we would be attending a festival near the town center. We got dressed in traditional hats and ponchos for the festivities and headed out. When we walked in the large room, lite by only two bright lights, we saw the other people of the tour were all dressed in similar traditional clothes. The festival reminded me of the middle school dances at First Methodist Church after football games in that people were awkwardly dancing and were being forced to get up and participate. The live band was made up of local students playing churanga’s, guitars, flutes and drums and as they played the local families tried to get everyone to dance. The fact was that everyone was tired and no one really wanted to dance. We bought a beer and tried to make the best of the situation. After putting up a good effort we made the signal to head back to the house. Back at the house we sat on the deck looking up at some of the best stars I’ve seen (possibly better than Moab).

The next day we woke up and had a great breakfast looking out over the lake and said our goodbyes to the family. We hopped back on the boat and headed to Tranquille Island. We climbed to the center of the town looking over terraced plots of corn and potatoes. In the center we looked at the local artwork and great views while the local kids begged to take a picture with the tourist for a sol each. We ate a lunch of fish with another great view of the lake before getting on the boat to head on a three-hour ride back to Puno. I did some great reading on the boat and we made it to Puno with the engine only giving out two times.

Back at the port we found a ride back to the hostel to grab our things and eat dinner. We explored Puno for a few hours before finding the bus station to head back home. Segor managed to get a bus ticket for 1/3 of the price that we paid and we said goodbye to our traveling friend. I took another Benadryl and woke up at 5 a.m. the next morning safely in Cusco (only one flying dream). I haggled a taxi for 8 soles and we made our way back to the clinic.