We left Cusco on a night bus bound for Puno. It’s a six-hour
bus ride to the Peruvian shore of Lake Titicaca and the northern border of
Bolivia. From what I could tell the ride seemed uneventful. I slept most of the
way through and the few times I woke up and wiped away the condensation off the glass to check out the view, I saw only flat paved roads and empty plains
leading to the distant mountains. There is a day trip version of the ride that
stops off at a few archeological sites and a historical town, but we didn’t
have the extra cash to splurge, and honestly weren’t all that interested.
We arrived
in Puno safe and sound very early in the morning with every intention to catch
the earliest possible bus to the Bolivian side of the lake where we were told
was an easier and better place to explore the waters from. So, we caught the
7:30am bus headed towards Copa Cabana. Don’t get it confused with the hottest
spot north of Havana. We’re talking about the original Copa Cabana, Bolivia,
the first city to claim the name.
It was
three-hour bus rides with a half hour stop at the border where everyone had to
get off the bus and organize visas to enter the country. Since we’re American
we had to pay 135USD each to get in. Pretty much everyone else got across free
of charge, but luckily, Bolivia is the cheapest country in South America, so we
decided to cross the border on our limited budgets with the hopes that we would
stay long enough, and see enough to make it worth while.
Upon our
arrival to Copa, we were made aware that the following day, Bolivia would be
conducting a census, a once in every ten year occurrence. All of the
restaurants and shops would be closed for the entire day. It was suggested to
us that it would be a good time to catch a two hour boat ride to an island on
the other side of the lake where food would be available and we would be able
to spend the night. Seeing as this was our only option, we grabbed some ticket
and headed off to this mysterious island that at the time we knew nothing about.
What we later found out is that the “Isla del Sol,” or “Island of the Sun,” was
a great place to visit, and boasts a rich cultural history dating as far back
as the third millennium BCE. There are over 80 sets of ruins on the island and
in the religion of the Incans it was believed to be the birthplace of the sun
god.
In present
day roughly 800 families live on the island spread out among a few different
villages. They make a living by farming the steep, rocky hills, on ancient
terraces, fishing for trout, and providing accommodations for the tourists that
come to visit.
On the boat
ride over to the island we met yet another genuine person and friend, in a
fellow traveler named Dylan, who hails from Australia. What was interesting
about Dylan is that at 18, he is the youngest person we've met traveling so
far. We caught him on a three-month solo trip in-between high school and
university. The boat ride gave us enough time to get acquainted and learn that
his reason for heading to the island was to do a day trek that he had found in
his copy of the “Lonely Planet.” Joe and I were glad to hear this as we had
been looking to do some hiking for a while, as we arrived at the island and
were anchoring up, a group of 6 or 7 local boys, none over the age of 12, crowded the dock yelling
at all of us and pushing each other for space, to tell us about the type of
accommodations their families could provide. They were speaking in Spanish of
course, But like true businessmen.
Joe and I
ended up following the most confident kid on the steep 15-minute walk up the
hill from the port. He boasted clean beds, a great view, hot water, wifi,
and free breakfast on the roof all for 30 Bolivianos, (there
are about 7 bolivianos to a dollar.) It was the first hostel on the top of the
hill and it seemed like it was going to do the job so we took him up on his
offer. They didn’t have room for Dylan so he hiked higher up in search of
something else with plans to meet up later. We quickly discovered after paying
(it was the only place that has ever made us pay right away) that the smooth
talking kid from down by the dock was a professional liar. The wifi didn’t
exist, and neither did the hot water. My pillow had hair and crumbs all over
it, breakfast wasn’t free, and the chain connecting to the plug in the toilet
tank was broken in half so the toilet didn’t flush.
That night
when we found Dylan for dinner we discovered that he was staying at one of dozens of better places just up the hill for 10 bolivianos less. But hey, you
live and learn. The next morning we got the hell out of the place and took over
the two empty beds in Dylan’s room before heading out for our little trek. The
book showed a path that brought whoever followed on an 8 hour hike through the
island on a well worn path treaded by a majority of the visitors to the island.
Instead, we set our eyes on a long mountain ridge in the opposite direction
that sloped way up and way down several times before coming to a lighthouse at
the tip of a cape on the most desolate visible part of the island.
Rain had
been in the forecast for the day so as we hiked our way into the afternoon with
nothing above us but blue skies, and fluffy white clouds, we started to feel
some relief. By the time we got to the top of the ridge we had been aiming for,
I was hunched over trying to catch my breath in the thinner than usual air.
When I finally caught up with myself and was able to look up, the view laid out
in front of me knocked it right back out again. I never have, and doubt I ever
will see anything quite like it ever again.
All that
was around me in any direction on this perfectly clear day were huge ocean-like
expanses of glistening blue water, a horizon of massive mountain ranges, and a
pure blue sky with the kind of clouds that you lie back to and call out shapes
and figures. I could have stayed there and stared for days.
It was a
warm day but it wasn’t hot, and judging by how cold it got at night 4,000
meters above sea level, we didn’t expect very warm water. Nonetheless we made
our way down the ridge to the lighthouse for a swim, because honestly how often
do you get a chance to jump off the birthplace of the sun into the highest
navigable body of water on the face of the earth?
I didn’t
touch the water before jumping in because I didn’t want to give myself any
reason to back out. Joe started us off and I followed. The moment I broke the
surface of the water and felt the exhilarating cold sting wake up my entire
body and mind, I knew we had made the right call. I popped my head up out of the
water to take in the clean air and the magnificent blue view as I soaked up the
suns warmth on my face. This was one of my favorite moments of the trip so far.
It helped me to fully realize how content I am with what I’m doing in my life
right now.
We hung out
for a while before hiking back to town just in time to find some dinner as it
was getting dark. We each ate an entire large pizza at a restaurant before
retiring back to our room for a late night of picture sharing, ukulele playing,
and travel talk. It was a great time. Early the next morning we would say
goodbye to this beautiful escape of on Island and take the boat back to Copa
Cabana to finally see what that was all about.
