Floating reed island of the Uros

Our last stop in Peru was the port city of Puno on Lake Titikaka, the highest navigable lake in the world. Lake Titikaka borders Peru and Bolivia and on a clear day you can faintly see the mountains of Cordillera Real in Bolivia. We visited Uros, one of many man-made floating island communities on the lake. If you´d like to try this at home, the islands are made by stacking reed roots on top of one another and anchoring them together in order to make a floating platform of one metre which can then be covered with cut reeds. Stepping onto the small reed island of Kontiki, home to only five families, was like walking on a huge waterbed. Any time a boat passed, the whole island would lift in its wake. Although this island has primitive reed houses, they use solar power for radios, televisions and telephones. Uros is a network of floating islands, made up of several communities like Kontiki and the main island boasts a reed church plus a school and a hospital made of more modern materials (adobe brick with corrogated metal roofs). The islands´ decorative reed boats which were once used for their primary industry, trout fishing, have now been replaced with modern rowboats. They are now used solely for their current primary industry: tourism.

Local girls on Taquile

During the same trip we visited the picturesque island of Taquile which we were able to walk across in about one hour. Men wear colour coded toques according to their marital status and status in the community and bear colourful weighted belts to protect themselves as they are the only beasts of burden on the island. Women wear colourful pleated skirts, their marital status revealed by the size of the pompoms dangling from their black shawls. Children place themselves strategically at beautiful viewpoints on the island and charge one sole (a quarter) to each tourist that clicks his camera. We counted 25 boats in the harbour and if each carries between 25 - 30 camera toting tourists that are dropped at the island each morning, these enterprising young ones must turn a good profit.

Seeing traditionally dressed women carrying large colourful blankets of children, hay, alpaca goods, etc. is common in South America. I am now used to seeing groups along the roads, tending their farms or working in small markets. What I´m not quite used to yet is seeing one at the bank talking to a finacial advisor or walking across the Plaza de Armas balancing her large bundle on one arm and producing a mobile phone out of the many ruffles in her bright pink skirt with the other.

After another easy border crossing into Bolivia, we arrived at the lake town of Copacabana - a destination for backackers and vacationing Bolivians alike. It had a very beach resort type feel to it with restaurants lining the water dotted with kayaks and peddle boats. A popular hike is up a cliff to a cemetery close to the gods that offers fantastic views of Lake Titikaka and Copacabana. It seems to be quite the attraction as there are several stands at the top of the cliff selling drinks, candles, toy cars and dollhouses. I wouldn´t want to hike down with much more than water and I think the vendors felt the same because behind them garbage was strewn all down the cliff getting close to Lake Titikaka.

We visited Isla del Sol in Lake Titikaka which legend states is the birthplace of not only the Incas but the sun itself. We were dropped at the north end of the island and began our four hour walk to the south end. The ridge walk offered beautiful views of the lake on both sides and we happened upon early ruins and a rock that is reported to look like a puma and is the namesake of the lake (titi = puma, kaka = stone). It looks like a large rock. I think the incas were chewing too many coca leaves...

Llama Fetuses in the Witch's market

La Paz is a city full of energy and every different area seems to have a district. We stayed on the hairdressing street and every shop we passed by we were offered a haircut. As soon as I showed the slightest interest in price, I was taken to the nearest chair and half of my hair was chopped off. Now every time I put on a shirt I still lift my hair with a flourish. It seems a bit dramatic seeing as it is no longer necessary.

While the hairdressers were unsatisfied with my hair, the shoeshiners were appalled by the state of Brett´s hiking boots. The youth in the balaclava assured him that not only was a shine possible...it was necessary. He started by brushing all the dust off and then administered a solvent which he applied generously and lathered into the shoe and laces. Quite a crowd had gathered at this point and other shoeshiners insisted that my sandals receive similar treatment. I somehow managed to decline. Finally, with a crowd of five other shoe shiner onlookers, the final touch of black polish was rubbed into the canvas. After consulting the local woman beside him, Brett ascertained that the asking price of twenty bolivianos was too dear (in fact, laughable) and gave the hard working masked man five.

We strolled through the witches´ market which sold llama fetuses as good luck charms and small statues. We bought one that was supposed to be for safe travel - but I think that if I was coughing at the time it could have been for good health. Close by is the Coca museum where we learned the many benefits of the coca plant as an anaethetic and for mental and nutritional purpose. Chewing the coca leaves is also a great local remedy for curbing the effects of altitude sickness. We also learned the downside to the coca leaf, which is cocaine. It was shown how the abuses of one civilization (predominantly the USA) can ruin the livelihood of another. The presentation was a bit biased, but definitely interesting.

Cycling the dangerous road

When I pictured the most dangerous road in the world, I am afraid to admit that I pictured it double paved and winding down a steep mountain with a few dozen switchbacks and scenic waterfalls along the way. I knew that 30 vehicles a year toppled over the impossibly consistant 1000 metre cliffs, but still I never would have imagined that I would be racing 90 km and descending 3500 metres in altitude downhill on a narrow strip of wet and eroded dirt road for four hours. The waterfalls fell directly onto the road washing away what little width there is while gigantic trucks and buses reverse onto death defying precipices in order to let oncoming traffic pass. These narrow corners were usually the only spots available with room enough for these large vehicles to pass each other!

I was cycling near the end of the pack (by cycling I mean clutching my brakes as hard as humanly possible while my body jostled over several large muddy rocks), when I saw a member of our group lose control of their bike and fall head first over the steep vertical cliff. I couldn´t see the bottom or where the person had fallen, only the steep rock face where they went over. Three of us who witnessed the accident immediately dropped our bikes and called down, but we heard nothing. After what seemed like ages, a leg moved and slowly Millie stood up with a big smile on her face. For me it was a mix of horror and relief because I hadn´t known it was Millie because of our ridiculous matching outfits. I was relieved that she was okay, but horrified that I might have had to break terrible news to her friend Kari back in La Paz.

With help, Millie scrambled up a steep slope down from where she flew off, but her bike had to be rescued by way of rope. Miraculously, she only fell 25 ft and was winded, but okay. She even managed to finish the ride. At the point where we realized she was alive and uninjured, everyone decided that it was not in bad taste to pull out cameras...

Retrieving Milli´s bike

As I watched the guides haul Millie´s bike up the rock with rope, I made the executive decision to not stay on the left as I was told (ie. precipitous ledge = death by falling), but rather risked death by bus or truck and stuck to the right. I figured I´d have slightly better odds as the trucks and buses usually (but not always) honked a warning... This reasoning may or may not have saved my life when later I flew over my handlebars after going through a stream. It wasn´t nearly as dramatic as Millie´s fall, but the guide decided to give me his bike with back brakes that actually worked.

The weather on our ride was very foggy and I am happy for it. If I had seen the cliffs of insanity that were in full view on the way back up, I think I would have been clutching the cliff face for dear life. I had two very large beers on the journey back in the van but I think I needed a couple of tranquilizers instead as we sped back up the death road.

When we arrived in la Paz the evening after the scary bike ride, the view was beautiful. At first we could only see a few twinkling lights between two mountains but gradually the whole city, its houses stacked neatly on the hills, was revealed to us. La Paz was built in a giant bowl, the business district at the centre, and whichever direction you come from, you have to descend into it. Unfortunatley we had to say goodbye to La Paz earlier than we would have liked as we had to rush off to catch a plane that only flys twice a week to Guarayamerin. From this northernmost Amazonian town we can hopefully catch a ride on a slow boat down the Rio Mamore.

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