La Paz (Bolivia) to Puno (Peru)
08 May 2015 – 11 May 2015
If you’re like me then with the
onset of a rancid, dirty bout of viral gastroenteritis…or is it food
poisoning…whatever it was, there’s an internal dialogue that progresses from
early detection, through denial, trade-off and then finally, begrudgingly,
acceptance. In the end whatever ‘it’ is and whatever ‘it’ was just becomes too
great for all your good will and internal fortitude, but, lets check that carry
bag in here, we don’t need to be walking through security with this story just
yet.
We were on the way out of
Bolivia, slinking our way north west around the waters where the Sun was
believed to have been born (according to Andean legend). Desolate & austere,
the landscape looks just like what a daze feels like when your eyes glaze over,
your mind wanders and you linger in those moments of blank comfort with no
thoughts. Ephemeral and transient, moving through these ancient lands of legend
we stop on the shores of Lake Titicaca in the town of Copacabana, just as the
sun is taking its last bow for the day. The waters shimmer in burnt orange as
the small crowd stands on the shoreline, clapping as the gold orb disappears
from sight.
Sunset on Lake Titicaca - Copacabana - Bolivia
Was feeling absolutely wretched in this shot
Inga and I headed out to downtown
Puno that night for some food and a few drinks, and one pesky, errant,
subversive Tom Collins. This one non-descript drink. This one small
insurrectionist. This dangerous subversive. It was to hold my life for ransom
for the next few days with a vice like grip on my well being….and you know…when
it strikes, just when the death knell is sounded, what it was that brought you
to your knees. That model citizen of the cocktail world, the one that never
causes trouble and quite likely would be a very good neighbour, on this
morning, took out a baseball bat and hobbled me. I woke up on a bright Puno
morning with the violent sounds of ‘KOMBUCHA’ shattering through the walls of
the homely Kuntor Inn. How in the world was I going to make it to the front
door, let alone the shores of Lake Titicaca this morning?
Lake Titicaca - Peru
After downing a cup full of
cement for breakfast I handed over all my valuables, all responsibility and all
direction of my motor skills to Inga. I must have looked like a dead man
walking in a fait accompli. Arms limp by my side, head bowed, shoulders
drooped, I was shattered at 7:00am and there was nothing I could do. Those
first few ours on the boat out of Puno were brutal. Occasionally I stuck my
head up and looked around in order to appreciate where I was, but I had
nothing, I was the one in the pack that would have been picked off out on the
plains of the Serengti.
The sun here is piercing, it
prickles your skin. The waters are a deep, rich blue and the equally
magnificent skies are punctuated by cotton like puffs of white cloud, painting
like. This lake is sacred in Peruvian legend and there is the belief that the
Sun God, that was born on this lake, created Manco Capac, the first Inca King.
Completely aside from that, but as
interesting, are the Uros Indians that life on great floating read islands.
They are effectively the guardians of the lake and have inhabited this corner
of the world in their unique and ingenious style for generations, utilising
water reeds that grow in the lake to make their own floating terra firma. It’s
quite incredible and really, not matter what my state, I felt absolutely fortunate
to have both seen and set foot on a couple of these islands.
The best I could muster - its the most fake smile in illness that I could muster - Lake Titicaca - Peru
Uros floating islands - Lake Titicaca - Peru
Uros floating islands - Lake Titicaca - Peru
Uros islands - Lake Titicaca - Peru
From what I understand the reeds
need to be replaced constantly, or indeed, islands need to be rebuilt
frequently. The groups are generally small but with that said, even here the
ever forward marching band of technology has made its way. TV’s, mobile phone,
electronic devices, they are all common places and well utilised through the
assistance of solar powered batteries. The children head out by boat to local
floating schools and the elders, either do what they do, or, cater to tourists
such as us. It makes the whole situation feel a little contrived but that, to
me, is affecting me less and less these days. That’s the nature of necessity
and human interaction, so if cultures adapt and pander to what we bring, then
OK, if it’s beneficial for all I can accept that.