Water Falling in the Jungle

We arrived in Puerto Iguazu in the late afternoon heat, and stripped out of our warm clothes before setting out to find a place to stay. The town is small and pleasant, shaded by large trees, and surrounded by jungle and a river bearing the same name that passes alongside it. We selected a hostel, which seemed nice enough, and headed into town to find some dinner. We ate our usual healthy dinner of pizza and beer, and returned to the hostel exhausted from the long bus journey that we have just completed.

Unfortunately, whilest Timb was in the bathroom having a well deserved shower, I discovered that we were not as alone in our room as one would have hoped. I picked up my bag to discover a large black cockroach huddled beneath it. I let out a shriek and it ran, and i jumped back against the wall. As I did so, I spied another cockroach scampering into our room from beneath the door. It was all I could do to keep my composure, as I had never seen a cockroach in real life before, and I am sure Timb would say that I didn´t do a very good job of remaining calm. He emerged from the bathroom, quite confused as to what the problem was, and proceeded to heroically squash all the cockroaches that he could find. I think there were only about 8 in total, but that was enough to make me sleep with one light on, very uneasily. The next morning we made the decision to switch hostels, to a cleaner, bug-free environment.

I got to pick the next hostel, and we treated ourselves to a well-deserved four star hotel suite, with a lovely balcony, and jacuzzi tub! I felt this was well justified, and we did not have any problems with cockroaches in our new hotel room.

We set out for the falls that afternoon, taking the local bus to the national park entrance. It was a scorchingly hot day. We took the passenger train out to the path to the biggest set of falls, called Garganta Diablo. A boardwalk through the jungle and over the widely flowing upper Iguazu river lead us out to the waterfall view point. You could hear the water falling before you could see it. The river pounded over the face of the cliff, and incredible amounts of water rushed over the face. It was an amazing site. We took many photos, and then headed back to the train.

Timb at Garganta Diablo

Before we left the park that day, we explored the second of three trails to the water falls, the upper trail. Another boardwalk followed along the upper portion of the falls, which spanned a large distance. The Garaganta Diablo was just the largest of the falls, there were many other smaller falls, following the cliff face. It was incredibly beautiful. The water flowing out over green, jungle rock faces made it a unique experience, and I was happy to have made the long journey just to see the falls.

The next day we returned to the park under a cloudy sky to complete our trip along the third and final path to the water falls. This was the lower path, and the longest of the three. It took us down to the base of the smaller falls, above which the upper boardwalk followed. It was a cloudy day, and we were able to make it most of the way around the lower trail before it began to rain. The views from below the falls were spectacular, the best being from an small island that we reached by boat. We snapped a few good photos, and then headed back up the path for the train, dripping wet.

A view from the lower trail.

The next day was our last in Iguazu, and it was a hot one. We walked the long street, aptly named Tres Fronteras, to the confluence of the Rio Igauzu and Rio Paraña. Here there is a viewpoint and a monument errected to mark the Argentinian border. Similar markers are visible across the rivers, marking the borders of Paraguay and Brazil.

It was an interesting feeling, standing on the edge of the country, it gave me a sense of our trip and how far we had travelled to arrive at this spot. Later that day, we gathered our bags and caught a bus to Buenos Aires. Like usual, we were moving onward to explore a new place and experience new things. How lucky we are...

On the road in Argentina - San Pedro to Salta and onward

Our bus from San Pedro was one of the nicest buses that we had yet to ride on. We lucked out and got the seats by the emergency exit window, with a little extra leg room. The bus was packed with tourists on their way out of Chile. We left San Pedro and Chilean customs without incident, and made our way out onto the highway into Argentina. The rode cut back up the steep hill that we descended on our way out of Bolivia. We passed by the Bolivian frontier once again before setting a course for the Argentinian border.

Formalities at the Argentinian border were long and arduous. Many people were crossing the border from buses and private vehicles, a long line of people wound its way out of the customs office into the glaring sun. We waited for almost an hour, with several people going in and out of the office infront of us with different forms. At long last our passports gained another stamp from the officials, and we were on our way into Argentina. We climbed further into the mountains, and then began to descend a long, winding road cut through a mountain valley. This was one of the most amazing roads I have ever been on. Timb longed to have his longboard to sail through the many hairpin bends. [Editor´s note: It was sweet!] We descended into the night, and arrived in the Salta bus terminal to a dark, rainy night.

The next day we awoke to find the rain still flowing vehemently. Despite Salta´s lovely architecture and leafy streets, we decided to leave that evening to escape the endless rain. We walked over to the bus station to purchase our tickets, and on the way picked up a following of stray dogs. We started with one, and then as we walked through the park, another one joined. It was funny, because we couldn´t get them to leave us alone. They just trailed after us until we went into the bus station, at which point we lost them. We bought our tickets to Iguazu, via Resistencia, and headed back into town to check out of our hostel.

We stowed our bags safely in the hostel, and set out to find a suitable cafe in which to spend the rainy afternoon. We walked along the pedestrian streets, bustling with activity, and found a nice cafe overlooking the main plaza. We spent a couple of hours here, enjoying the Argentinian cafe cortados, watching the foot traffic of the plaza out of the window. After a while, the rain let up a bit, and we decided to go out and explore the city a bit more. We discovered a free exhibit of pre-Columbian artifacts at one of the old buildings around the square. It was an interesting exhibit, in a darkened room with magnificent architectural details. We lingered there for a while, and then headed to find a internet cafe to do some photo downloading and trip planning.

Two hours later we were on an overnight bus bound for Resistencia, where we hoped to take a break for the day and catch another overnight bus to Iguazu. The rain flowed heavily as we pulled out of the bus station. We seemed to circle Salta, as we travelled between small towns picking up more passengers. At each bus terminal individuals selling food products to the travellers would call up the stairs of the bus, attempting to entice us into a sale. At one stop Timb and I purchased our first onboard cuisine, two carne empanadas, that I mention here because they were the best ones that we had on the trip thus far. We munched happily on them as the bus pulled away from the station and towards the highway.

The bus journey from Salta felt excruciatingly long. We seemed to stop in every little town along the way, winding through its streets to the bus terminal, and waiting with the interior lights blaring in your eyes as you tried to sleep. It was not one of our best bus journeys.We arrived in Resistencia quite exhausted, and decided to forgo our planned trip into the town and head straight on to Puerto Iguazu. We purchased our tickets, resupplied our snacks and beverages, and waited for our next bus to arrive.

San Pedro de Atacama

We arrived in San Pedro de Atacama to find it brilliantly sunny and scorchingly hot. We went through Chilean customs without incident, and ventured into the town on foot to find a hostel. I had booked one in advance but it turned out to be much different than the website suggested, so we wandered around to find a new place to stay. It was hot and we were sweating carrying our heavy bags around, and by the time we finaly decided on a hostel we were both rather cranky. We soon discovered that San Pedro is a very expensive little town to stay in, and decided that the best thing to do would be to get out as soon as possible. Two bus companies run buses to Salta, our next destination, on Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. As it was Monday, we were hoping to get a space on the Tuesday bus, but it was not to be. We were two people too late in the line, and were therefor going to have to make do in San Pedro until Friday.

San Pedro is a rather nice town despite it`s very touristy roots. The streets are small and dusty, with low adobe buildings, and large green trees in the plaza. We wandered the streets for a little while, poking around the market, and admiring the gigantic Christmas tree in the main plaza (for me a rather odd site in the middle of the desert, as I am used to white Christmases). We found a restaraunt for dinner, and enjoyed the set dinner menu of salad, dessert, and a damn good steak.

The next day we spent lazing around. It was my birthday, so we went out for a good breakfast and then spent some time at the internet cafe, so that I could get in touch with my family. Timb and I had a couple of gigantic empanadas for lunch, and played cards in the afternoon, as I attempted to get my tan back. For dinner we went out to a restaraunt with a fire pit and open air patio. We could see the stars as we ate. It was another great meal, though not a cheap one.

The following morning we initiated our budget plan, and after one last breakfast out, we moved to a less expensive room at our hostel, and went out to buy some groceries to cook the meals for the next couple of days. We had a siesta that afternoon, and then headed out to rent some bikes for a tour of La Valle de la Luna.

We were told that the best way to tour the Valle was to do the circuit, starting with a big uphill climb, but ending rather easily with downhill and flat sections for the most part. The beginning of the ride was fine, we stopped at the top and took some photos of the valley from the cliff viewpoints dotted along the road. When we crested the hill and began to descend the other side, trouble began. A head wind picked up, and as we pedalled vigourously as we descended the hill. It was actually faster to bike up the hill, we discovered than to continue down it. But we pressed on, and after about an hour of hard riding we came to a fork, with a field of land mines one way and the entrance to the Valle the other. We pressed on into the Valle, bu by this time we were quite exhausted. We stopped and took a few photos of the rock formations, and the red desert sands, but we had rather lost our enthusiasm for the trip. We biked through the Valle, forgoing the stop to climb the dune and watch the sunset, as we had to conserve our energy for the journey back to San Pedro. We pedalled our way through the rest of the Valle, and back into San Pedro, arriving quite exhausted. We dropped off our bikes and headed back to the hostel to cook dinner and fall into bed.

The day before we left was once again spent lazing around the town. As nice as it was to be in the quiet little town of San Pedro, there wasn´t much for us to do that we could afford. We spent a lot of time wandering around, playing cards, and reading. The next day we left for Salta, Argentina, and it felt good to be on the road once again.

Salar de Uyuni and the Atacama Desert

Throughout our travels we had been hearing from other travellers about a 4x4 trip through the salt flats of southern Bolivia and into the Atacama Desert. The stories had varied from person to person and many were quite eventful. It seems the trip is entirely dependent on the driver you get and some are not very good. We heard about drivers falling asleep at the wheel, giving all the food away to their families, selling the gas and then running out in the middle of nowhere, and lots of flats and breakdowns. Surprisingly, despite all these tales of misfourtune, everyone said we should go. Katie, who believes vacations should be about beaches and relaxing, was a little hesitant about going, but I talked her into it. We booked with a company in La Paz, which was supposed to be pretty good, and set out for Uyuni via bus and train. There was an awesome movie on the bus, Boa vs. Python, about a giant snake (not sure where it came from) that escapes so the FBI gets a snake guy and some hot girl (not sure what her role was other than she could hold her breath for a long time) to breed another giant snake, equipped with a built in head-cam, which they release into the sewers to kill the other snake. Meanwhile, the original snake owner hires a muscle car driver, a couple of duck hunters, a cowboy and an indian to go and kill the first snake. Anyway, I digress, but it was a hilarious movie even though it was dubbed in Spanish.

The train ride was very nice, as we were in the executive car ($10 a seat.) It started out by crossing a seasonal lake that had thousands of flamingos. We arrived in Uyuni, late that night, and crashed at a local hotel near the station. The next day we met with the local tour operator who took us to the truck that would be our ride for the next three days. The vehicle was a toyota landcruiser, perhaps a couple years old, and looked to be in good shape and well cared for. We would be travelling with the driver, his wife and son and two other couples. They all seemed friendly, which was an encouraging start to our journey. It was a little crammed, with nine people in the car, and we would end up rotating through the back seat, as it was the most cramped.

Our first stop was a train graveyard just outside the city. Uyuni was once the train center of Bolivia due to booming mining industry in the surrounding hills. As the mines began to dry up, the trains were left to rust in the desert, making for a very interesting junkyard.

After the graveyard we went to a nearby town on the edge of the salt flats to see how the locals processed the salt. It was interesting to see, and they had all sorts of souviners made of salt that you could buy. We left the town and entered the salt flats. Since it was the begining of the wet season, the salt flat was covered by up to a foot of water in places, but we just drove right on through. I hate to think what all that salt does to the poor trucks. The flats were blinding white and as expected, perfectly flat. It was a little surreal, driving for miles and miles across an unchanging landscape. In the middle of the flats is a hotel that is built entirely from salt. It is made up of blocks of compressed salt and has furniture carved out of chunks of salt. We also took advantage of the completely white landscape to take some trick photos.

After that we piled back into the truck and head for Isla Incahuasi, a chunk of volcanic rock and coral in the middle of the flats. The entire salar was once an inland sea, and so this island had an extensive petrified reef. It was now inhabitated by giant cati and a surprising number of birds. We went for a short hike over the island, which at 3800meters and 30 degree heat, was quite a challenge. After lunch, it was back into the truck again for a long drive across to the far edge of the salar. Here we taken to a comfortable little hotel, again built from salt blocks, nestled in the cati covered hills at the edge of the salt flats. After a great dinner, we went to bed early as we were getting up early to see the sunrise over the salt flats.

The sunrise was very nice, although it was rather difficult to get up that early. Post breakfest, it was back into the truck for a long drive across several more salt flats before we began to climb up into the surrounding hills. Our first stop of the day was in a rocky area that looked very much like the American Southwest. There were a network of canyons carved into the sandstone bedrock, and rock formations of all sorts of shapes. It would have made for some good climbing but the rock was pretty friable and kept coming apart in my hands. There was a large volcano, Ollague Volcano, nearby that was midly active and steam plumes could be seen eminating from the summit. We barely had time to strech our legs before we were back in the truck heading off through the desert again.
The next leg of our journey took us by an array of different coloured lakes. The surrounding hills are very rich in minerals and different salts which accumulate in the lakes giving them very interesting colours and textures. We stopped for lunch at the Laguna de los Flamingos, which definately lived up to its name. There were three different types of flamingos: andean, Chilean and James, although they were all fairly similar looking. There were also foxes and vicuna (the wild relative of the llama) hanging around the laguna. After lunch, we passed several more lakes of different shades of green and red, with many more flamingos before we started to climb up into the high desert of the Atacama. By now it was really looking like the desert, with nothing but sand and rocks streching as far as the eye could see. We continued to climb up and the air got colder until we reached a broad, high pass at over 4800 meters. Definetly the highest I have ever driven to. We got out to pose for a picture but the air was bitterly cold and the wind was relentless so we quickly piled back into the truck and set off again.
Our next stop was group of wind sculpted rock monoliths. They were particularly stricking as they were all by themselves in the middle of a a great sand field. They were carved into the most unbelievable shapes, some sitting on little pilars that looked as if they were about to fall over. The amount of bouldering here was amazing, I wish I had brought my climbing shoes and a crash mat with me. Again, the rock wasn´t the best, but there were still some good routes that avoided the bad rock.
We continued on to our last stop of the day, a small refugee where we would spend the night. It was just inside the national reserve Eduardo Avaroa, on the edge of Laguna Colorada. This laguna was a bright red, with sections of white salt flats, set against a backdrop of volcanoes. The lake was fed by a series of hot springs that welled up along the edge, and was again, full of flamingos. It was also incredibly windy, which we did not really notice until we were heading back to the refugee, walking into the wind. We had to tuck our arms behind our backs, pull our toques down over our faces, and lean into the wind in order to not be blown off into the Atacama Desert.
After dinner we went to bed early, as we would be getting up very early the following day to get to the geysers by sunrise. We awoke to a very cold and dark morning. The sun had not yet begun to light the sky and the stars were absolutly amazing. We were still at 4300 meters above sea level so it was very cold. Our guide said that it had dropped to -16C over night. We all piled back into the landcruiser and proceeded to race the sun all the way to the geysers, making it there just in time. It was pretty cool to see them at sunrise, but I wasn´t sure if it was worth the 4am wake up. All the other geysers I have seen were in Yellowstone, and it is all very regulated. There are boardwalks and you can´t get to close to the geysers. Here in Bolivia, you can wander right up to them and peek inside. Apparently every once in a while the crust breaks and someone plummets into them and is instantly steam cooked. This has only promted the Bolivian Park officals to put up a few signs that simply say ¡Peligro! but don´t specify any more than that. Luckily, no one fell in that day.

After the geysers we drove to Laguna Blanco, which had a small hotspring and a little pool built where we could have a dip. The air was still very cold and the laguna surrounding the hot spring was still frozen solid. The flamingos actually get frozen in place each night, I don´t know why they haven´t figured out that they could spend the night in the hot springs. We had a great breakfest at the edge of the hotsprings, which was much needed considering we had been up for about four hours at that point. After breakfest we went for a short hike across the desert to Laguna Verde, while our guide cleaned up. The laguna is located right at the base of the perfectly shaped Lincancabur Volcano, making for some great reflection shots. The laguna is also full of sodium bicarbonate, which is left in odd looking deposits along the lakeshore, and the green colour is from dissolved copper minerals.
From there it was about an 40 minute drive to the Chilean border which consisted of a couple buildings and a gate, sitting by themselves in the middle of the desert. Here we parted ways with our guide and the others and boarded a bus to San Pedro de Atacama, Chile. I am glad we did not have to do the marathon drive (960km through the desert) back to Uyuni. Soon the bus was driving down a paved road (the first in three days) towards civilization. The road itself would be awesome for longboarding. It drops 2000 meters in about 30 or so kilometers. The only problem was the pavement was so hot, I´m sure you´d burn through your urethane in no time.

Overall, it was an amazing adventure. We were lucky and got a great driver, who was very friendly and didn´t steal our food (we had great meals everyday.) We didn´t have any flats or breakdowns or get stuck in a mud puddle in the middle of nowhere. Even Katie had to admit that she enjoyed it for the most part, although she was really looking forward to having a shower in San Pedro.

More photos here:
Album 1
Album 2

Blog Catch Up!

You may have noticed that we recently added a bunch of posts. Sorry, to do it all at once but we are trying to catch up. Currently, we are in northern Chile, having just completed a 3 day 4x4 trip through the Atacama Desert from Bolivia (blog entry coming shortly, hopefully.) It is very expensive here so we are heading to Argentia as soon as possible.

Stay tuned for our adventures in the desert!

La Paz and surrounding area

We arrived at the edge of La Paz, running into the usual chaos of South American cities. La Paz, although it is the world´s highest capital, is built in a crater. It is also one of latin america´s fastest growing cities, and the sprawl is spilling over the edges, like adobe lava, out of a volcano. The fact that it is in a crater also means that you almost always have to walk up a hill to get somewhere, which at 3660m, is a work out. We stayed at the hostal Loki, which is a good place to party but not to sleep. I can not say that La Paz is very high on my list of favorite South American cities, but we found some good coffee, which was much needed after a prolonged stint of Nescafe. We took advantage of the cheap prices in the markets and did lots of shopping for presents. One intersting area was the Witches´ market, where you could buy dried llama fetuses (Peter, guess what your Christmas present is!) and other unidentifable items. There was also a large balck market but we were unable to find anything remotely illegal. I think we just didn´t go down the right alleys.
We needed to relax a bit so we went to see a movie at the cinemas. In La Paz you are actually assigned a seat in the theatre but no one seems to pay any attention to this system and sits where ever they want. We saw Lions for Lambs, the only movie playing that was not dubbed. We had not idea what it was going to be about, but ended up enjoying it for the most part. I felt like it was trying to make a point, but the director wasn´t quite sure what that poinst was.
After the movie, we witnessed a fender bender, where one taxi driver cut off another. With the way South American´s drive, I am surprised I haven´t seen more crashes. I was curious to see what would happen next and how this sort of thing was resolved. The resolution process involved both drivers duking it out in the middle of the road. The driver who had cut off the other had a signigicant size advantage and quickly took out the little guy. I guess in La Paz, Might is Right.
We also went to the Contemporary Art Museum, which had some really interesting art. There was a very interesting exibition on, but I will have to get back to you on the artist´s name.


Disclaimer: Roxana should not read any further than this.

Just outside of La Paz is the World´s Most Dangerous Road (you can google it to get some pictures.) It has become a major mountain biking destination, I had beeen considering riding down it since we set out on our trip. I felt rather conflicted about biking down a road, that the locals had to use and claimed so many lives. Upon arrival in Bolivia, however, I learned that a new road had been opened last year, and the World´s Most Dangerous Road (WMDR) was now almost solely used for biking. This was the deciding factor for me, as I felt a bit morally better knowning that I would not be creating unneeded traffic on an already dangerous road. I decided to go with Gravity Assited Biking, the original company to start touring the road, which was more expenisve but also the only company reccomended by the Lonely Planet. Once out on the road, I was definetly glad I had not gone with one of the copy cats, as they looked like quite sketchy operations.
The ride starts out a 4800 meters, at a high pass 45 mins outside of La Paz. We were given our gear (pants, jackets, helemts, gloves and gogles) and a new full suspension Kona mountain bike. I took it for a few laps around the parking lot, and jumped it off a few drops, only to be left gasping for breath. At 4800 meters, downhill is the only direction to ride a bike. The first section is along a paved road, still in use by traffic. It would be a crazy longboarding road, as it is full of hairpins and winding s-turns. We also passed through a drug checkpoint, designed to look for materials used for making cocaine. It was the beginning of the rainy season, so we quickly dropped into a cloud and the visibiliy was awful. Personally, I thought this was the most dangerous part, as passing large trucks on a wet, cloudy, windy road is a little scary. Technically, however, this is not the WMDR. The WMDR started about an hour down the road, splitting off the main road onto a narrow gravel road. We were given another saftey talk and headed off down the road. As a mountain biker, I actaully found the road pretty tame, although with traffic I would say it would be much scarier. I would say the road itself is about equivalent to a logging road on Vancouver Island. Not particularly bad, but you don´t want to go over the edge. I think the road claimed so many lives mainly due to the driving habits of South American drivers, which is really something that needs to be witnessed to understand. Everyone drives around corners as if they know they are the only car on the road. The other reasons that so many people have died is that it has become a large attraction for people who really don´t know how to ride a bike that well. Really, it is not hard to keep your bike on a road a car and half wide, yet people still ride off the edge, the last one being in March. The fact that most companies do not give good bikes (failing brakes, etc) and are not prepared for any sort of crash, does not help. On the day I went, a rider in another group managed to hit one of the five signs on the whole 40km road and went over the edge. He was lucky enough to land in a tree, otherwise he would have been the latest life claimed by the road. We only had one crash in our group, just a simple front wheel washout resulting in some scraped up arms. Our company had the training and equipment to clean the scrapes (or deal with something worse), something others did not.
After dropping down 3000 meters we arrived in a small animal rescue center in the Bolivian jungle. We had hot showers and a buffet lunch, while other groups were left at small shacks along the road to buy something that didn´t smell too goodlook that edible. After that we boarded the bus for the 3 hour drive along the new road (which is a year old and already falling off the mountain) back to La Paz. Overall, I would have to say that I did the ride simply to say to rode the World´s Most Dangerous Road. It was not nearly the most dangerous ride, or even the most memorable ride I have ever been on. As Damon, our guide said, it is the most boring ride they offer (they have a two-day downhill single track ride!) All in all, it was still a lot of fun and I got a free t-shirt. They just need to build a few kickers to make it more interesting!

Note: I only shot a couple photos on the ride as it proceeded to get very wet and muddy. I have some pictures that were shot by the guides that I will upload shortly.

Lake Titicaca

We decided to send a bit extra on the bus trip to Puno from Cuzco, so we took the Inca Express. The Inca Express is a tourist bus that stops at a couple locations between the two cities and includes a lunch buffet. It was very touristy, and made us realize how those with money explore South America. I prefer our way, although the lunch buffet was nice (next time we will remember to bring some tupperware.)

Our first stop was at an old church called San Pedro. It was built on Inca foundations and had a lot of really old paintings. It was interesting to see how they had incorporated Inca beliefs into the Christian paintings in order to help convert the Inca. Apparently, the restoration was being funded entirely by the tours going through the church.

The second stop was at an Inca ruin called Raqchi. Although we had seen many ruins, this was still somewhat interesting as it had a 12meter adobe and stone wall that used to support the temple roof. They also had 156 round store rooms, of which a couple had been fully restored. An intersting site, although we were hurried through fairly quickly. Another reason I am not a fan of these package tour sort of things.

Our next stop was at the top of the pass between Cuzco and Puno at an elevation of 4300 meters. We piled out for the obiligatory shot in front of the sign (with llamas!) and the all piled back in the bus.

The third stop was at a museum at Pucra. It contained artifacts from a nearby excavation of a pre-inca city and temple. This was a little disapointing as I thought we´d be going to the actual site, not just the museum. A museum can be anywhere in the world but there is only one excavation site. Nonetheless, it did have some cool stone statues and examples of the Inca Cross, which pre-dated Christ.

After that it was non-stop to Puno through the altiplano. The scenery was very beautiful, and as we pulled into Puno, we got our first views of Lake Titicaca.

Puno, itself was not very impressive, kind of just a dirty border town that once a year has some crazy festivalsin Feburary. We, however, were there to see the floating reed islands, which we set out to see the next day. These islands are entirely made of torta reeds that grow in the lake and are world famous. Too famous actually, as they have turned into something of a floating tourist trap. The islanders originally started living on these island to avoid conflict with the Inca and other hostile tribes. We were there in the low season, yet there were still at least 30 or so boats making trips out to the islands. There were at least a hundred more boats moored that were all used during the peak season. Apparently, there are still some reed islands that have escaped the hordes of tourists, and I hope they stay that way. I make it sound like it was all bad, but it was cool experience and not something you can do anywhere else in the world. It was interesting to see how they had been living for hundereds of years as well as the modern adaptions they had made (note the solar panel next to the reed house.)

We had had enough of Puno so the early the next morning we caught a bus to Copacabana, Bolivia. Much to our surprise, the two names on the registar above ours were Luke Pretty and Laura Lambert. They happened to be making a trip down to Bolivia before their hike on the Inca Trail, and had decided to go to the same town as us.

After a little confusion at the border we were across into Bolivia. I am glad that I am travelling under my Canadian passport as the border gaurds had decided to charge all Americans $100 for a visa. Other Americans, who came into Bolivia a different way said they didn´t have to pay but it may have been a new tax. Their were a few Americans on our bus who were surprised by this and ended up being held and the bus went on without them. Not a fun situation for them.

The town Copacabana was nice, especially after Puno. It is fairly small and is nestled in between some hills right on the lake shore. We checked into our hotel (90 bolivianos a night which is only $12!), explored the markets and hiked up one of the nearby hills. All along the trail are crosses that pilgrams place rocks at the bottom as they hike up. At the top are a bunch more crosses, an amazing view and a bunch of vendors selling miniture items. It is traditon to buy these small items (eg. toy cars) and have them blessed in the hopes that you will receive a real life one in the following year. An interesting tradition that has done wonders for the toy trade.

The next day we caught a boat out to Isla del Sol, a small island that is believed to be the birth place of the first inca, Manco Inca, and the sun itself. We had been recommend a small family run hostel just outside the main town which turned out to be an amazing little place. The family was very friendly and a night´s stay, dinner and breakfest was only 120 bolivianos($16!!) for both Katie and I. I had the most amazing rainbow trout, which the stock apparently originated from Canada. The four of us also went on a 14km trek around the islands, which was very tiring as the elevation ranged from 3815m (lakeshore) to over 4000m. Along the hike we were met by many local children who all wanted our cookies. Katie, being a sucker for small children, gave them our precious cookies and bought some candies to hand out. We visited a couple more ruins including them Temple of the Sun, which had an amazing view of lake. We also found, with the help of an Argentian women, the Rock of the Puma, which is were Manco Inca and the Sun were born. The views along the hike were breath taking, I can understand why the Inca believed that this was such a special place.
The next day we boated back to the mainland, said goodbye to Luke and Laura, who were heading to Cuzco and boarded a bus to La Paz.

I have some more photos posted here:

Inca Express

Lake Titicaca