Copacabana, Lago Titicaca, and back to Peru

The bus to Copacabana took 5 hours instead of the 2.5 they told me. There was no reason I could see for a delay, so as has happened before, the bus company blatantly lied just to get me on their bus. There was one highlight to the journey though - floating the bus across Lake Titicaca on a very dodgy looking raft. Luckily the passengers caught a much safer looking boat, as the bus looked like it was going to tip up at any moment.

Copacabana (the original, the famous beach in Brazil is named after this place), is a nice little town, the main reason to come here though is the beautiful and immense Lake Titicaca, the world´s biggest high-altitude lake.

The lake is a spiritual centre for the Incas, and some of that spirit must have rubbed off on to me. As I sat on the hill overlooking the lake the madness of the previous week fell out of my mind and I felt calm for the first time in ages.

I wandered around the surrounding area and came across two children who were desperate to show me something. I couldn’t understand their Spanish but I followed them anyway. They showed me an ancient Inca site, which was just a pile of big stones but I saw the Inca seat (like the king’s throne), and had fun with the kids. They insisted I took a picture of them, and I knew they were only doing it for some money, but they were so nice I didn’t mind paying them.

I would have like to stay there longer to visit the islands, but I had totally run out of time and needed to get to Cusco. That was another fun journey - I decided to not bother with the tourist buses which ran at stupid times and chance the local transport. These are generally minibuses called ´collectivos´ which wait until they are full before departing at random times. When I say full, I mean not only every seat taken, but every spare inch of space - floors, aisle, even the driver’s window. I was squashed between two fat women and their children on their knees, luckily they had big shawls on so it was like being squeezed by two big cushions. I was so jealous of the kids though, they amazingly managed to fall asleep 5 mins after we left and woke up 5mins before we arrived.

My bags were put on the roof of the bus, which I started to worry about when it started raining. I shouldn’t have done, they were thankfully kept dry, what I should have worried about is the customs officers climbing on to the roof of the bus to inspect the bags, then opening my bag and leaving it like open until I discovered it 20km later.

The border crossing between Bolivia and Peru was one of the most lax I have ever seen - I could easily walk between the two countries without anyone stopping me or even noticing. The fact that I actually wanted stamps in my passport meant I had to actively seek out the relevant offices.

I changed buses in Puno, where a chatty bicycle-rickshaw boy took me across town to the other bus terminal. I asked him what the time was, he said 12:45pm, which is what I thought it should have been. He took me to a bus company leaving for Cusco at 1pm, so I asked the time again (this time 12:50), so I bought a ticket and left my bags there to go and grab a sandwich.

10 minutes later I went to collect my bags, then tried to get on the bus. The bus man wouldn´t let me through the gates, saying I had to wait an hour. After a bit of an argument, I found out the time was actually only 12pm and everyone had lied to me, to get me to buy the bus ticket. 3 border crossings and I had messed up with the time 3 times.

After this followed a very long journey to Cusco, stopping for every man and his dog. We stopped for an hour for an unknown reason, and stopped again to change a tire. When it got dark it transpired that the interior lights didn´t work, so no reading, no music (mp3 player has broken), resulting in a very long journey.

In Cusco my cheap hostel from the guide book turned out to be a not so cheap hotel, but by that point I couldn´t care less so I enjoyed the luxury of my own room, own bathroom with hot shower and not having to go outside into the freezing cold just to visit the toilet like most places. Sheer luxury.