We are in Copacabaña, nestling on the shores of Lake Titicaca. It's a little piece of Gringo hell, very touristy and full of foreigners, but pleasant enough. Immediately we go down to the Lake shore and try to book tickets for the boat that will take us over to Isla del Sol, in the middle of the Lake, where we plan to stay for a night or two.
The sun is beating down as we board, and a tinge of apprehension squeezes my stomach as I have never been on a boat without throwing my guts up...ooh the embarrassment at the thought of spewing into one of the most beautiful Lakes in the world. Never mind eh.
The boat sets off. There are two sides to the Island that we are going, North and South. We have purchased tickets to go to the South, with the North being approximately 10 Km further away. The water is a bit choppy and the boat chugs away at walking speed. Some people on the journey are just going to the Island for a half day trip. Once almost half way there, the driver informs us that he is only going to the North part and those on the day trip will only get an hour on the Island. Oh dear, doesn't seem like much time for the day-trippers, and we are going to the wrong bit. After a little haggling and Ad starting to lose his temper the driver agrees to stop off in the South.
We pull up at a little tiny jetty about 500m away from the main docking point. Thankful that I haven't puked, we now have to clamber out of the boat onto the jetty, which is about 3 foot higher than the boat, then walk along a tightrope of an approach then along, what looks to me like a piece of warped, splintered twisted piece of 2 x1 plank, all with our backpacks on...and with a ten foot drop on either side. Why is nothing simple. I'm not too steady on my feet at the best of times ... Ad thinks I have a lack of co-ordination... and am forever nearly falling arse over tit. Like a drunk Houdini traversing a bit of string over the Niagara cascades I toppled and twisted, leaned and teetered, tripped and stumbled succesfully over the obstacle of death and sighed a sigh of relief as the snapping crocodiles circling in the depths below dispersed empty mouthed as I surmounted the crumbling banks of surrounding ground. (Note to self: stop exaggerating you are not Indiana Jones!!)
Isla del Sol is an isolated beautiful Island that rises up with near vertiginous cliffs, 2 hours off the shore of Copacabaña. The elevation is around 3800 metres so the air is thin and the sun beams down on an arid and parched landscape. To reach our accommodation there is a 30 minute walk up the side of the shoreline hills. Whilst the paths are ziggy zaggy, the effort in climbing with full back-packs is somewhat tiring on the old lallies. Two young local boys offer to show us to our hostel and to carry our packs. We politely decline the offer of bag carrying, insisting that we will be ok climbing up. Five minutes later with legs about to fall off and all the danger signs of an imminent heart attack through lack of oxygen we capitulate and let the youngster take over the donkey work as we try to catch our breathe and watch them practically run up the impossible steep slope.
The Island is gorgeously barren, and as we approach the summit of the baked earth slopes and turn to view our surroundings, the true immensity and tranquility of the Lake washes over us and envelopes our sense of wonderment and good fortune at being here. The Lake stretches further that the eye can see; deep blue, like the Mediterranean sea; no noise, just the sound of buzzing flies and the distant bleating of some sheep; on the horizon, back on the mainland, the dramatic craggy snow-capped mountains of the Cordierlla Real punctuate the moody remote skyline; the sun is beating down; this for me is a paradisaical fallow landscape, I love the quiet, I love the barrenness, I love the fascinating attractiveness of this prodigious expanse of freshwater Lake.
The sun is beating down as we board, and a tinge of apprehension squeezes my stomach as I have never been on a boat without throwing my guts up...ooh the embarrassment at the thought of spewing into one of the most beautiful Lakes in the world. Never mind eh.
The boat sets off. There are two sides to the Island that we are going, North and South. We have purchased tickets to go to the South, with the North being approximately 10 Km further away. The water is a bit choppy and the boat chugs away at walking speed. Some people on the journey are just going to the Island for a half day trip. Once almost half way there, the driver informs us that he is only going to the North part and those on the day trip will only get an hour on the Island. Oh dear, doesn't seem like much time for the day-trippers, and we are going to the wrong bit. After a little haggling and Ad starting to lose his temper the driver agrees to stop off in the South.
We pull up at a little tiny jetty about 500m away from the main docking point. Thankful that I haven't puked, we now have to clamber out of the boat onto the jetty, which is about 3 foot higher than the boat, then walk along a tightrope of an approach then along, what looks to me like a piece of warped, splintered twisted piece of 2 x1 plank, all with our backpacks on...and with a ten foot drop on either side. Why is nothing simple. I'm not too steady on my feet at the best of times ... Ad thinks I have a lack of co-ordination... and am forever nearly falling arse over tit. Like a drunk Houdini traversing a bit of string over the Niagara cascades I toppled and twisted, leaned and teetered, tripped and stumbled succesfully over the obstacle of death and sighed a sigh of relief as the snapping crocodiles circling in the depths below dispersed empty mouthed as I surmounted the crumbling banks of surrounding ground. (Note to self: stop exaggerating you are not Indiana Jones!!)Isla del Sol is an isolated beautiful Island that rises up with near vertiginous cliffs, 2 hours off the shore of Copacabaña. The elevation is around 3800 metres so the air is thin and the sun beams down on an arid and parched landscape. To reach our accommodation there is a 30 minute walk up the side of the shoreline hills. Whilst the paths are ziggy zaggy, the effort in climbing with full back-packs is somewhat tiring on the old lallies. Two young local boys offer to show us to our hostel and to carry our packs. We politely decline the offer of bag carrying, insisting that we will be ok climbing up. Five minutes later with legs about to fall off and all the danger signs of an imminent heart attack through lack of oxygen we capitulate and let the youngster take over the donkey work as we try to catch our breathe and watch them practically run up the impossible steep slope.
The Island is gorgeously barren, and as we approach the summit of the baked earth slopes and turn to view our surroundings, the true immensity and tranquility of the Lake washes over us and envelopes our sense of wonderment and good fortune at being here. The Lake stretches further that the eye can see; deep blue, like the Mediterranean sea; no noise, just the sound of buzzing flies and the distant bleating of some sheep; on the horizon, back on the mainland, the dramatic craggy snow-capped mountains of the Cordierlla Real punctuate the moody remote skyline; the sun is beating down; this for me is a paradisaical fallow landscape, I love the quiet, I love the barrenness, I love the fascinating attractiveness of this prodigious expanse of freshwater Lake. 
Awe! i envy you guys.... such wonderful photos
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