Volleyballin´
Trip Start
Feb 27, 2009
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56
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Trip End
Sep 13, 2009
Llachon, Puno, Peru
Friday, June 26, 2009
This evening ended up alright in the grand scheme of things. The group headed to a local restaurant - having a local guide helps so much in these instances as you get to go to the real genuine restaurants and avoid the tourist haunts.
Cynthia is proving herself to be a mightly talker and indeed she rarely isn´t talking highly of Peru - she is fiercely proud of her country - brought up in Lima but with parents from Cuzco and Arequipa as well as having spent 4 years working in the Peruvian jungle - we´ve landed a corker. I chowed down on Alpaca - yes that be a time of llama folks. Straight off the Virgin Mary´s head. It was like beef and served up with a garnish of the local Coca leaves. We are getting these thrown at us at every corner
A floater - an island that is
. They are usually served up as a tea infusion or you can just munch on them raw - they´re meant to be great for the altitude sickness and for energy. But if taken in sufficient quantities I think a bit of wacky hallucinations might come in to play. We're all done by about 8.30 and although we´d a 3 am start and some of the group have been on the go for 72 hours without sleep, I don´t want to go to bed in spite of a splitting headache from the altidude so decide to grab a couple of postcards and a hot chocolate - Puno is buzzing by night. Back at the hotel I ready myself for the trip to over the Lake to Llachon (day packs only - preparing for no showers, no hot water etc etc). I begin to write the post cards in bed and open my pen which has burst under the high pressure and cause a right inky mess all over the quilt cover. Bit of explaining to do on that one.
25 June 2009
I manage a crap night´s sleep. Everyone else at breakfast is exactly the same. Not good. A crowd of grummy anglophones heading on a boat to an island of no hot water and drop toilets does not a great atmosphere make. But everyone decides to be happy anyways which is great
Reed Boat
. We´ve been joined by two newbies for the Lake Titicaca tour only - Deniece and Chris from Sydney - mother and son - both really sound. They´ve been trekking the sister trail to the Inca trail already - Chris continuing his round the world tour and mum just here cause she likes trekking. I´ve still got a headache from the altitude and am groggy from the lack of sleep but we´re quicky jolted to life when we´ve to board the "tuk tuk" for our transfer to the harbour. Tuk tuks are indeed the bat mobile from the last entry´s pics. A three wheel bicycle with room to seat two. Some poor local is out of breath 15 mins later as he drops me and Aisling off at the port.
Hagglin'
We've to stock up on pens and paper for the kids at Llachon where our home stay will be on the shores of Lake Titicaca among the Andean Quechan people. My pile comes to "once" soles - that´s 11 to you philistines (about 2 yos). I've only a "diez" soles (10) so offer it thinking I hadn´t haggled at all and probably could have cut the price by a lot more. The weathered old trog just gave me a look of disdain much as I had earlierin the trip in Sydney´s Paddy´s market and I´ve to go begging for a soles of Aisling
Floating island - reed stack
. Safely on board our boat which is powered by a car engine and can manage no more that about 1/2 a knot on water, we settle in on top of the cabin where we can sit outside and take in the sun - it´s still early morning anfd bitterly cold and the wind chill from the 1/2 knot i´sn´t helping matters. We all get out first sight of Bolivia in the distance 280km across the lake - that is how clear the air is up here. This particular part of Bolivia has snow capped peaks rising to 6,500m on the other end of which is La Paz, the Bolivian capital - that's as about as much of Bolivia I'm going to see on the trip sadly - but this image alone will remain in my head for a long time - spectacular.
Floatin'
Before we arrive at Llachon, we´ve got a stopover on a floating island. These are amazing little island constructed from the reeds in this part of the lake - moored by about 6 large sticks sticking in the lakes floor. They are made from the turf on which the reeds grow as a foundation - then layers of reeds are added on top so that you´ve got an island floating on the lake. They were needed by the Andeans in the past inorder to hide from invaders
I'm the king of the world -shaky reed tower
. They are used today in times of peace as opposed to living on the island as they avoid all sorts of property taxes and income taxes as the people claim they are not buildings and the territory is theirs - and not belonging to Peru. There are houses built from reeds on each island, a small stove and about 12 families. Amazing. The island we visit has solar power donated by the french government. So there´s a small TV in the leader´s house - it really is an amazing way of life. We also board a boat constructed of reeds for a small trip to another of the islands. There is so much more to tell of these places but alas I couldn´t be bovvered. You´d want to time your toilet visits well though as you´ve to row to one of the deserted islands to take a crap, no.1s are easy enough just stand at the edge of the island and off you go.Flushin'
Back on the boat we arrive at Llachon - which is part of the Peruvian mainland - on a peninsula but still on Titicaca´s shores. We are all assigned our families for the night - Aisling and I lucked out and are shacking up (quite literally) with the community leader - Richard and his wife Fiorentina and son Alex. Aisling and I have no spanish let alone Quechan and the family needless to say have no english. But we get along fine. We've rooms of our own with no heat and no hot water in the one toilet shed there is - though thankfully it has a flush - or at least "had" a flush until I visited.
After taking a waz, I flushed the loo a bit too vigorously and broke the flush. How do I explain this one? Inking the quilt now breaking the only toilet for an entire household
Luxury Lake Titicaca Cruise Liner
. Fook and hell. A quick examination after lifting the cistern lid shows the flush handle was being held together by sellotape so thankfully not all my fault. Nothing I can but of course not wanting to leave my deposits for the next visitor - no doubt Aisling - I have to roll up the sleeve and dunk my arm into the freezing cold cistern to flush the toilet. Apart from the obvious risk of cholera - not such a dangerous thing to do - a good soapy wash later and all's fine. I wondered if Aisling would figure it out - clearly the flush wouldn´t work for her :) - I fessed up later.TMI.....we got our lunch served up and thankfully the guides were also staying at Richards. SO the talk could be done in English. It was the obligatory Quena Soup served with chili and some lovely fried trout and rice with broad beans. All delicious as expected and, obviously, washed down with Cacao tea.
Herdin'
We all have to do some chores around the homestay to earn our keep - this quite frankly was not in the brochure and certainly not the herding of cattle! Richard, Aisling and I set off to herd the cattle (4 of them), taking them back to the homestead via the lake for a good old pint of water after a hard day´s grazing
Some kid or sumfahn
. I get one cow, Aisling another and Richard leads one more and the bull. Now the bull hasn´t taken a liking to me or my red wind cheater I´m wearing - it is literally screaching in cow talk, puffing through the nostrils, stamping the hooves the whole way back. Aisling is dunging herself - which is rich given I'm the one it wanted to maul to death. Back at base there is time to kill before we head down to port to join the rest of the group to go out and drop the nets to catch fish - the nets to be collected the next morning. At the house, I show Alex some pictures of the trip to date - he is mesmerised - he's only about 4 and the cutest little fella you could imagine. His face lit up when he saw a picture of the whales from New Zealand. Awesome.
After we return from the fishing, there is a volleyball net set up on a patch of grass flat enough to hold a game. Volleyball!!! Us gringos have to take on the locals in a match. We actually win - granted the standard wasn´t of Olympic standards. I loved it though. We played for about an hour and I was diving and everything getting all dirty much to the amusement of the locals and the fellow gringos. They are practising for the equivalent of the local community games. The 12 communities on the island will all compete against each other
Floating island
. Its only later I realise the Peruvians are quite fanatic about volley ball and the national team is apparently quite good at it.We then all head back to our homes to get ready for dinner which will be held at Richards house. There is a magnificent sunset over Lake Titicaca which I take in alone perched on the step of what appears to be a community hall sitting beside a small school. A few locals pass by as I´m there with the camera. Each of them stopping after an inquisitive Buenos Tardes to try and engage in conversation - what I wouldn´t do to be able to speak the lingo now. It was a great 30 minutes - as far removed from my past 10 years in Ireland and Seattle as I could be - life doesn't get much better than that.
No more moon walkin'
I'll never forget the moment we gathered for dinner for two reasons
1. It was where I was told that Michael Jackson has passed away. I must admit a tinge of sadness for in spite of his obvious bad points, I'd spent a lot of my childhood listening to the geyser and some of the best pop songs ever made
Stove - Neff just don´t see the gap in the market
. Probably the first celebrity that appealed to my generation who died and who I actually stopped in my tracks when I found out about it.2. I had to get dressed in full traditional attire - including purple poncho, hat and scarf. But sure purple´s in this season right? So I couldn´t have looked so bad.
After dinner - you guessed it - soup (fabulous as always), rice and veg (no fish left) and the obligatory Cacao tea, we were all led to the yard for traditional music and dancing about which Richard was particularly enthusiastic. The main dance was the condor dance where the men where the condors, dancing around the women. At the end of the dance after the women were successfully wooed by the condors, they would mount us (literally), piggy back style and we'd whish them away - presumably for a eternal life of love - though unless the condor turned into a man or even a woman if it were a lesbian Quenan-ette, they probably wouldn´t have much lovin to talk about. The whole music and dancing was repetitive and lacking in much quality - indeed hardly the tribute deserved by Mr Jackson on the day of his passing.
Freezin'
We all turned in to our huts - freezing cold - though a little bit of the heat from the sun had remained trapped in the hut thankfully
Homestay - Chez Richard
. I had, no exagerrating, 8 blankets. But nonetheless, I slept like a log.We were all up at 7 the next morning to get the boat to Taquile island, saying a somewhat sorrowful goodbye to the locals at the harbour. It was a wonderful experience sharing a day in their lives. Though I´ve no doubt that the minute we were out of sight, they rolled back to their houses, scrubbed off the fake dirt, had hot jacuzzis before getting out the play stations and platning their arse on the couches in their oil fired central heated drawing rooms to watch the Eastenders omnibus - cheatin´ bastards.
When we arrived at Taquile island, the most visited place on the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca, we got to walk for an hour including up a steep hill. It was here I realised how difficult the Inca trail will be at this altitude - this was only 2 hours interrupted only by a lunch of...you know what it consisted off, no need to rhyme it all off again. The Inca Trail will be 4 full days of trekking. I was breathless at the top off the 100m high hill as was everyone. Wil be tough going.
We're back in Puno now for the evening before we head off to Cusco tomorrow. Peru is smashing.
On my iPod
The Way You Make Me Feel - Michael Jackson (my favourite Jacko song)
