An All Ways Travel van picked us up, but we weren't the last stop on the way down to the docks. The driver picked up some remaining members of our tour group before dropping us at the docks, where we would meet our boat and tour guide. When we exited the van, for the umpteenth time during our time in Peru, we were accosted by local women trying to sell us everything from water, to chullos, to pencils and pens. We were past the point of even saying "No, gracias." We simply continued on toward the docks.
[Another note, too, about all these bloody early mornings....I'm doing all this without any COFFEE!!! Nada!! Not even cafe con leche. There's no little coffee maker in our rooms and I'm not giving up any precious minutes of sleep to go find a cafe. Plus, when I was on the mountain, I wasn't going to mix up any more of the instant crap...Now on with our tour of the islands of Lake Titicaca...(did you SAY it???)]
Our tour guide informs us, when we are underway, that our tour group is called, "Cusi," which means "spider" in the native language (not Spanish). When he calls for Cusi group, we know to follow him. (This is a slightly better version of the umbrella that most of my elementary teachers had me follow when we went on field trips.) In about 25 minutes, we land on the floating reed mat islands of Uros. Seriously, people constructed the islands not out of dredge spoil, but out of reeds. They chopped the roots of the reed plants out of the lake bed to form the base. Picture floating blocks of peet, if you will. They lash these blocks together with rope, then lay reeds down on top in a criss-cross pattern. Then, they anchor the floating mass to the lake bed. On top of the reeds, they build their homes. Up to 15 or so families could live on one reed island. It takes about a year of dedicated work to build the island. Without regular maintenance (i.e., removing rotted reeds), the island would fall apart within a year. With maintenance, though, the island can last up to 50 years!!
When you step on the reed island, your feet squish down, but it is dry. It is like stepping on a mat of extremely squishy foam. And its sturdy. You won't punch a whole through the bottom or something. And again, people live here!! But their whole existence is based on tourism now. I didn't take any photos of the people or the island structures because I felt weird. Like a voyeur. Yet, tourism has brought many good things to these people. The profits from tourism have built a school. Have afforded them access to clean water. Have allowed them to sustain their traditional way of life. It is still strange and the people go through the motions of shepherding turistas through their homes and around their islands. We paid 5 soles each for a ride in the reed boat that took us across to another of the 32 or so reed islands within the sheltered bay of Puno.
After spending some time fending off the women selling local handicrafts (e.g., mobiles made from reeds, embroidered pillowcases and wallhangings, etc.), it was time to board our tour boat and head towards Taquile.
Taquile is 3 hours, by boat, from Puno. We were up so early in the morning that most of us neglected breakfast. There comes a point, for me, where I am so hungry I am sick. Thus, I slept most of the way to Taquile and when I awoke, I felt nauseous. It's that feeling you get when you've been in a moving vehicle for too long. You want fresh air and a walk.
Well, we got fresh air and a walk. We got to walk UP a steep hill....AGAIN. Peru, I'm sorry, but I am OVER the following: (a) altitude, (b) headaches, (c) beggars, (d) ROCKS, and (e) STEEP HILLS. Eff you and your hellacious topography!!! I now know there is a reason I live at sea level...
Anywho, the walk up to lunch was beautiful. The island is rather large and there are no vehicles (no DIESEL!!), other than the tour boats. The houses are made of mud bricks and rock-lined footpaths are definitely gentler than the Inca Trail.
We even took time to stop and smell the roses:
Lunch was a delicious spread of quinwa soup and fresh pan-fried trucha with rice and papas fritas (french fries). After eating and a rest, I felt a million times better than I did on the boat. Tami, however, was fighting off a new ailment, despite beating the effects of altitude while at Machu Picchu. Tami's intestinal tract was rebelling and, how you say? Exploding? Pepto was no longer an efficient remedy and she skipped lunch to rest on a sunny rock wall...The good news? Larry moved down the pain scale to a 3 or 4 (with 10 being the worst he felt while battling altitude on the Inca Trail) and he ate lunch. If Simon were here, he wouldn't be getting seconds...Hey, baby steps, right?
After lunch, our group made our way down 533 rock steps to our waiting tour boat.
ARRRRGGH!!!! MORE steps!!! I do wonder if I cracked my head without knowing it -- why else would I PAY for this kind of activity....In the end, the way down to the docks was enjoyable, scenic, and easy. The boat ride home offered a little time to sleep, and by the time we got back to port, time to wonder if we had gotten carbon monoxide poisoning. The cabin air was stale and tinged with diesel, but outside was no better because the engine door was open in order to keep it cool. We were towing another tour boat behind us and the engine belched out exhaust, leaving fresh air in low slow supply. By the time we disembarked, we all had headaches and were tired from the 8 hour journey. Good thing we were returning to our favorite restaurant in Puno, Balcones de Puno, for a second night of music, dancing, and delicious food.
The next day we would be packing, purchasing last minute souvenirs, then riding off to the Juliaca airport to catch our afternoon flight to Lima. It would be the start of the journey home for Ryan and me....
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