Copa.....Copacabana......da da da da da da da dah da duh dah da da!

27^th November

Copacabana

Copa.....Copacabana......da da da da da da da dah da duh dah da da!

So after our indulgent night of pizzas and whatever English movie we could find on the TV, we set off for Ile de Sol the next morning, cocoa leaves stuffed into our cheeks to assist with the altitude. Instead of catching the easy route on a ferry to this Island off Copacabana, we decide to walk the 17km to the closest point as the crow flies to the island and hire a row boat to take us across.

It’s a good walk, especially at over 4000m in places, uphill is a new experience. But really worth it with amazing views of Lake Titicaca and walking through the tiniest of villages, it’s hard to imagine how they survive. Andrew assisted the boatman across by having a go with the oars.

We only took the basics with us (most hostals are happy to store your stuff, all in good faith from our side) and found a little hostal on the island run by the typical looking Bolivian woman. Long thick black plaits, usually with additions at the end that look like dangly tassley things you hold curtains back with, squat, thick gnarled nails, bowler hat on and lots of layers of skirts. Electricity and hot water were not guaranteed and we didn’t crack it lucky but were lucky to get fed as all but one restaurant on that side of the island actually had food and we had picked it luckily before the rest of the island visitors (say 12 people) came in, drawn by the candle light in the window (no electricity).

29^th November

Another hike to the Northern side of the island through little cultivated terraces along the coast, to catch the ferry back to Copacabana. Andrew braved a swim in the Lake, and then we sat on the bay shore munching our huevo and tomato sandwiches that or hostel hostess had made for us. After a very long ferry ride back, I think we walked faster, we hit the bustling metropolis of Copacabana (all 3 streets or so!) and found a pub run by an English guy who gave us interesting insight into living in Bolivia as a Gringo. Been there for 10 years and only now is being accepted into the community even after supporting and sponsoring the local soccer team, being engaged to a local and bringing money into the community. Said he was even expected to supply the booze at one of the local’s weddings because clearly he must be rolling. Hard to believe that you don’t lose faith.

30^th November

And we’re off again, to La Paz, the biggest city in Bolivia. Thought we were very smart to find a direct 4hr bus trip for R15 but realised quickly that you get what you pay for. I think direct means that you don’t veer much off the direct route but you stop constantly to pick up and drop off locals, fish in buckets, pick herbs from the side of the road, drop off gas bottles and poor Andrew could literally not fit into the seat without the guy in front of him having 2 knees in his back. And similar to home, fresh air is not a priority and some windows can’t even open up anymore. Anyway, we had a tussle with the old lady in front of us as we’d open the window and she’d promptly shut it – she won.

30^th November

La Paz

Just another big smelly city........but a popular mountain bike ride is on the cards for tomorrow, 60km downhill along “the most dangerous road in the world”. I had opted out on this one and decided that jewellery shopping might be more my thing until FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) set in, so here goes. Only an average of 100 people die each year!