6 March
Copacobana, Lake Titicaca
On insistence by Maarten, we caught a 2nd de Febrero bus (his birthday) to Copacabana. This is a typical Bolivian bus with all the luggage and even 20 layers of eggs tied to the roof, and local passengers carrying unusual precious cargo - we heard tiny "meeows" coming from one bag and witnessed wriggly bundles of blankets (babies). At one stop bundles of wool were packed in through the back windows, where the occupants found themselves buried under masses of colourful yarn.
An obstacle along the way was a river crossing barely made possible by a rickety barge powered by a 20 horsepower motorboat engine, which precariously transported the boat swaying like a pendulum to the other side! We had to catch a smaller passenger boat where we doubted if we'd ever make it across after the engine cut out not even a third of the way across.
As at arrival at every bus terminal, we were mobbed by locals offering accommodation at their casa. The first viewing was shocking even by our cheapskate/Galapagos Fund standards. The toilets didn't flush so this had to be done manually by filling a jug with water from a large barrel positioned outside the toilet. Thankfully, we were rescued by Sonia, who took us to her hostel with more desirable amenities.
Spent the afternoon in a pub/coffee shop watching football and doing travel research. We went to an interesting restaurant for dinner, recommended for its trucha (trout) to find it occupied by 3 giggly drunk Germans and a waitress with a curler in her fringe. After ordering we witnessed her scuttling out the restaurant, across the road to the market and returning with our items. It was our first taste of trout freshly caught in Lake Titicaca.
Copacobana, Lake Titicaca
On insistence by Maarten, we caught a 2nd de Febrero bus (his birthday) to Copacabana. This is a typical Bolivian bus with all the luggage and even 20 layers of eggs tied to the roof, and local passengers carrying unusual precious cargo - we heard tiny "meeows" coming from one bag and witnessed wriggly bundles of blankets (babies). At one stop bundles of wool were packed in through the back windows, where the occupants found themselves buried under masses of colourful yarn.
An obstacle along the way was a river crossing barely made possible by a rickety barge powered by a 20 horsepower motorboat engine, which precariously transported the boat swaying like a pendulum to the other side! We had to catch a smaller passenger boat where we doubted if we'd ever make it across after the engine cut out not even a third of the way across.As at arrival at every bus terminal, we were mobbed by locals offering accommodation at their casa. The first viewing was shocking even by our cheapskate/Galapagos Fund standards. The toilets didn't flush so this had to be done manually by filling a jug with water from a large barrel positioned outside the toilet. Thankfully, we were rescued by Sonia, who took us to her hostel with more desirable amenities.
Spent the afternoon in a pub/coffee shop watching football and doing travel research. We went to an interesting restaurant for dinner, recommended for its trucha (trout) to find it occupied by 3 giggly drunk Germans and a waitress with a curler in her fringe. After ordering we witnessed her scuttling out the restaurant, across the road to the market and returning with our items. It was our first taste of trout freshly caught in Lake Titicaca.
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