Funny, and probably quite unusually, we arrived early to La Paz, rather than late. But not just a bit early; two hours early, which meant we were at an almost locked down bus terminal at 4 AM in the morning.
I had checked up some hostels in town, but without making any reservations, obviously, and it was definitely too early to go. Other people also seemed to have some trouble with the early arrival and what to do. I asked some; a group of people was heading to a café to grab a coffee until their bus a few hours later to some other town. They offered me to come along but I decided to stick around. Then I talked to two Canadian girls who were going to wait in the terminal until daylight and then they had time to kill until 4pm, when their bus would take them further. Before that they needed to head to a hostel to pick up the suitcases they had left there, and they said it was a good hostel - in case I needed one. I had seen that one on Google Reviews too, although it wasn’t the one I had planned on. Nevertheless, I took on the offer of waiting with them in the freezing terminal, and then head to the hostel with them.
We talked for a bit, while more and more people, mostly Bolivians, started arriving and sat (or lied) down on the benches in front of a huge TV screen, in wait for something I wasn’t quite sure of. Simultaneously, more of the bus operators opened up their boots, and when it was around 5 AM I decided to go ask one of them about their busses to Puno, price and time.
It left at 6 AM and cost 100 bolivianos. It would take 4h to Copacabana, the Bolivian city from where you cross the border, and then 3h to Puno. I asked some other companies who gave me different prices, but the first one seemed the most reliable.
I talked to the Canadians a bit more, since they had been in La Paz, and I originally meant to stay one day to see a bit of town. They had taken a day trip to the Death Road, named so because of how many people die there every year (look it up on YouTube - it looks freaking scary - and combine it with Bolivians fame for drunken drivers I told you about…) Except for that, they said I didn’t miss much. It sounded cool, but I had also wanted to see the Moon Valley (that apparently looks different from the one in Chile, it just happens to be a common name…), and the Witch Market or something, but they hadn’t been to Moon Valley, and I wouldn’t have had time to do both in one day. So after a lot of consideration, I decided to take the bus an hour later. The other advantage was that since I was up already, I didn’t need to wake up early the next day to take the bus, since all buses for Puno left really early. Plus I’d arrive at around 1-2pm so I’d actually have most of the day to see the city before doing a day excursion the next day to the islands.
However, we weren’t in Puno until…4-5 ish? We stopped somewhere random in the middle of the road quite far from anything, for a very long time, but I’m unsure why. I feel like I heard an explosion while I was asleep so possibly a tire went flat, but we were all in the bus while stopped, which probably wouldn’t have been safe if they were changing the tires…so literally I have no idea why we stopped.
We also had to get off the bus at one point to take the boat across the lake. The bus and the people couldn’t get shipped on the same boat. If you saw the boats, you’d understand. These were not ferries, but wooden boats, and it’s a miracle that even just the bus didn’t sink the entire thing. The part between the ferry and Copacabana was so beautiful, that I managed to stay awake the entire time (about an hour - unusual for me). And we stopped in Copacabana for about an hour and a half, where we could get lunch, and then got on a different bus.
Then we obviously had to cross the border; getting stamped out of Bolivia, and into Peru. It all takes time…so when I finally got to Puno, and exhausted after my night bus from Salar, and then the long ride from La Paz, I checked into a hotel, and just stayed there for the night. I meant to find a hostel for about 30 soles, but was tired of searching with my huge backpack, and the guy offered the hotel room for 50 soles, when it meant to cost 80, because I said 80 was too expensive. 50 soles is about 14€ - so for a private room, and breakfast included, I could hardly complain.
Puno is close to the Bolivian border, and lies by Lake Titicaca; the highest situated lake in the world, at 3 812 metres. So I’m setting a lot of ‘records’ on my trip; the driest dessert, highest situated geysers, the biggest salt flat, the highest situated lake… Puno is also a tourist city (which I didn’t know when I decided to go there), famous for the floating islands of the Uros people, and Taquile island. So I had got the lobby staff to book a tour for me in the morning.
The bus was to pick me up at 6 AM. But after breakfast (with freshly squeezed papaya juice - never had that before) the bus didn’t show for some 17 minutes. I think the hotel guy even called them to make sure they hadn’t forgot me - and maybe they had, because I was the only person in the entire shuttle bus. But on the other hand, I was the first person to arrive, so I sat waiting for a while in the boat. Once people had got there, a guy came to play music for us for money; I gave him some because it was actually really cool. You know how Bob Dylan or other musicians play the guitar and the harmonica at the same time? Well this guy played a ukulele (or other type of small guitar ish thing) and the pan flute at the same time!
The boat trip to the floating islands was about 40 minutes. It was close, but I’ll admit the boat was slow. There were many islands and all the tourist boats that had left at the same time seemed to just pick a ‘free island’. There was a bit more than one island for each boat. When we got off, the ground was soft, like really soft, so you sank down a bit, into the grass. It wasn’t really grass, but a type of long grass/herby thing, thicker than grass and more yellow ish, and the entire island was built out of that. They explained how the islands were kept afloat, and that they needed to add the grassy material like once every month or four weeks ish, because otherwise the island would sink. All families and everyone helped maintain the island. If there was a conflict between any family or families that could not be solved, the island could just be cut in two, and problem solved. The women and children sang some songs, both in their language and in Spanish, in their colourful indigenous clothes, all of which ended with a ‘woooh!’
We got to take a boat trip around the island on their ‘mercedes’; a fancy straw boat that was much more ‘romantic’ than their regular boats, and had some other functions as well that made it luxury compared to their other boats. We got to see their simple houses, and could buy souvenirs. They had really beautiful mobiles (for kids, or as decoration, you know that hangs from the ceiling) with their type of boats on them, and I would have got a small one if not because they were so impractical in shape to bring back home. Instead I got a traditional Uros weaved pillowcase. I sort of regretted it afterwards because it was slightly expensive, and not all that pretty. But it was traditional, and obviously supported the local people…so at least it was for a decent cause.
We made a short stop to another ‘commercial’ floating island where you could buy drinks, postcards, go to the bathroom…I bought a piece of quinoa bread, to try it, and a postcard of the islands. You could also get a stamp in your passport that you had been there (I had no idea that was legal but they said ‘you can get a stamp just like you can in Machu Picchu - so I’m figured if millions do it at Machu Picchu, it can’t exactly be unheard of), at no cost, so I obviously did that.
The next part of the boat ride was going to be almost 3 hours. It was ‘only’ 36 km to Taquile island, but as I said, the boat was slow. Most of us slept I think.
Before arriving to the island, the guide told us we were mounting to the main square, up there (and pointed). I thought it looked easy, and not even that high up compared to how high the rest of the island was…but at an altitude of almost 4000 metres, that was obviously easier said than done. The heat really didn’t help either.
A different kind of indigenous people lived here, with a different language, different type of clothing. We visited another souvenir shop with locally produced clothing, but I didn’t get anything there. At lunch (with this amazing grilled trout), our guide explained that you could tell from their hats if people were married or not. Red and white meant not married. Completely red, and typically with a more detailed pattern, meant “100% married” - me and some other people slightly laughed at that.
I talked a bit to a young Columbian couple at the table, because I got bored of being silent…and this woman had also talked to me regularly during the entire day, because the guide asked me ‘so you’re French?’ because I had raised my hand when he asked who spoke French. Nobody had raised their hand when he asked if they spoke English, so I thought it was a pity that he’d have to speak in three languages just for me. After all, I understood what he said in both Spanish and his French.
‘No, I’m from Iceland, but I speak both French and Spanish…’ I replied in Spanish. And this older woman he had just been talking to immediately reacted by how amazing that was (both the fact that I was from Iceland and how well I spoke Spanish, and I suppose the fact that I spoke French too.) So basically she’d always ask short questions of how I found the island, and stuff, as if to check that I was doing alright as the only lone traveller on the tour.
After lunch, we descended the island by a different path, and went back to Puno. We were back in town around 5, and got dropped off at our respective hotels.
Back at the hotel I asked for some restaurant recommendations, but unfortunately the place was closed when I got there. I found some other restaurant with a fireplace - so proper warm place for once, had some pasta, and went back to the hotel. They were extremely kind, and helped me call all kinds of places in Arequipa; I wanted to book a 2-day tour that would leave early in the morning (and I’d be arriving in the super early morning/night), so I wanted to know I could come along and get pick-up at the coach station, rather than at a hotel…but the tour company said it wasn’t possible. I then got them to call around to some hostels, but two or even three that we called were fully booked. Having lost faith I’d find anything, I took advantage of their wifi and managed to find a cheap AirBnB place that had got really good reviews, that immediately got back in touch with me to say that they were already preparing my early morning arrival. Lastly, the reception staff got me a taxi to the bus station.
I asked the taxi driver for the best bus company, and went with his recommendation of ‘Cruz del Sur’. It was the same as the hotel staff had said. Their, and the entire station (it seemed), last bus left for Arequipa at 10.30pm. There was no cama left, so I got semi-cama, there’d be heating on the bus, and we’d arrive around 6 AM if I remember correctly (my bad for writing all of this so much later…). But before boarding I had to buy a ‘boarding ticket’, at another booth. I think it’s a tax thing or something - and is not included in the ticket price. It cost 1.5 soles. I waited for maybe 20 minutes or so, then I could check in my bag (yes, it was a very sophisticated bus company); you showed your ticket, then they took your bag and you got a receipt for it. Then you’d board through a different gate.
The bus was more similar to the buses back in Chile, than in Peru. They also had a video about bus security, and we had the legal right to tell the bus driver to slow down if he went beyond 90km/h. They also went around with a handheld film-camera and filmed everyone; pointed at you and said the seat number you were in. A security measure, that I later read that all the best companies do, but I’m not quite sure what kind of security it’s supposed to provide/how it helps. In case of an accident or robbery, maybe they can see if anyone’s missing? I’m really not sure…but yes, I read (thankfully afterwards) that night-time robberies of buses are common in Peru. Hence you should always take the most expensive option for bus travel, at least/especially if travelling at night.
I wasn’t supposed to get a blanket in semi-cama, but there happened to be an unopened blanket (still in its plastic) in the seat next to me, and nobody was sitting there, so I took it, went to sleep, and slept the entire way.