Day 12 — Off to the Altiplano

Tuesday — April 14

After an early breakfast, we went down to the lobby to meet Joaquin for our transfer to the airport. Imagine our surprise when we found Vidal waiting for us as well. It turns out that the farmers’ strike was extended into today, so he was unable to take the overnight bus to Puno last night as planned. On the way to the airport, he outlined the new plan, gave us the name of the guide who would be meeting us at the Juliaca airport, made sure we had his cell phone number to reach him in an emergency, and promised us that he would make every effort to get a bus out tonight. We tried to assure him that it was OK and that we understood. After all, the strike was not something he had any control over. It was clear, however, that he was unhappy about not being able to keep his commitment to see things through as planned.

It was bedlam when we arrived at the Cusco airport. Added to the usual crowd of passengers were people trying to purchase last minute airline tickets to destinations they had intended to travel to by bus. When we first started planning this trip, we’d considered taking the bus because we wanted to see some of the countryside between Cusco and Puno. In the end, however, we simply ran out of time and didn’t have the luxury of a day to make the bus trip. What a good thing that turned out to be!

Boarding passes already in hand, we joined the bag drop-off queue. The line was long, but it moved steadily. In the meantime, at our behest, Vidal went to see if there were any seats available on the Juliaca flight. It was a futile attempt. So we bid adios to a heavy-hearted Vidal, shelled out $23 for the excess weight fee on our bags (remember all that shopping), paid our departure tax, and went through security without any mishap. Our wait at the gate was short and soon we were aboard LAN 123. There was no room to spread out on this sold-out flight, but it didn’t matter. The 30-minute flight was over in the blink of an eye. Before we knew it, we were landing at Aeropuerto Internacional Inca Manco Capac in Juliaca.

The Andes Mountains peek through the clouds as we head to Juliaca.

Welcome to Aeropuerto Internacional Inca Manco Capac.

Debarking the plane, the altitude hit us like a brick wall and left us gasping for air. There was no doubt that we were on the “altiplano” (high plain)! (Note the altitude information in the inset in the picture above — equates to about 12,550 feet.) We immediately slowed our pace and in no time we were breathing normally. Our bags took a few minutes to show up on the carousel, but all three pieces were accounted for, so all was well in our travel world.

As Vidal had promised, Percy was waiting for us outside the terminal. As soon as he and Leo (the driver) had the bags loaded into a well-maintained late-model van, we were on the road to Puno, 30-miles (50 km) away — and another 115 feet (35 meters) higher in elevation. It was a pleasant drive on a paved highway with beautiful scenery to keep us entertained. The clarity of the air and the intensity of the colors (especially the blue of the sky) was amazing — another indication of the high altitude.

Around 10:00a, we pulled up to the Casa Andina Private Collection located outside the hubbub of Puno town. After seeing us safely checked in, Percy left us to get settled in, promising to return at noon for our planned outing to a few places around Lake Titicaca.

Our second-floor room in the main building was just as I had hoped it would be — bright and clean; beds made up with crisp linens and cozy comforters; wonderfully soft alpaca throws laid out to ward off the nighttime chill; central-heating system waiting to be turned on if we needed it. And the highlight feature — a view of Lake Titicaca.

Our second floor room at Casa Andina Private Collection.

A fabulous view of Lake Titicaca greets us from the balcony of our room.
(the orange tiles are the roof of the other building on the property; better views from our higher vantage point in the main building)

After getting settled into our room, we decided to grab a quick lunch in the hotel’s dining room. At just past 11:00a, we had the dining room and the serving staff to ourselves. Not very hungry, I was content with a smoked ham sandwich, although I did have a bite or two of Mui’s Saqta de Gallina (traditional chicken stew topped with strips of Andean cheese), which was very tasty indeed.

With a view like this, even cardboard would taste good.

Tummies sated for the time being, we collected our cameras and went to meet Percy for our afternoon outing.

Next Up: Day 12 — Ahayamarka & Aramu Muru

Day 12 — Ahayamarka & Aramu Muru

Tuesday — April 14

Percy was punctual in picking us up from the hotel. Like Vidal, he operated on the la hora Inglesa (English time) premise. (In much of Latin America, punctuality is not nearly as important as it is in the UK or the US; hence, the term has come to mean “punctually” or “on the dot”.) Comfortably ensconced in the van, we headed off on the highway that runs along the southeast coast of Lake Titicaca.

Roadside vendor in the town of Llave.

On our way to Aramu Muru, we stopped at a sacred rock at the edge of the highway. There was a column of some sort on top of the rock, which we thought was going to be our focus of attention. Not so; Percy dismissed the column as being a later addition by the Spanish. Identifying the rock as Ahayamarka, he explained that it dates back to the Tiwanaku culture that settled on the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca around 400 BC. Helping us climb the rock that was steeper than it looked from the ground, he showed us several indentations — some more identifiable than others — that legends say are footprints of a puma.

Left: The column is a Spanish addition to a sacred rock.
Right: Mui captures the fossilized “puma” prints on tape.

“Puma” prints in the rock known as Ahayamarka.

I should digress here and explain that Titicaca means “where the puma comes to drink” — from the Quechua words Titi = puma; caca = drink. If the puma came here for a sip of water, it just might have left those footprints behind.

Our next stop was at Aramu Muru, a door-like formation in “the Valley of the Spirits.” I had come across a picture of the rock portal during the planning stages of the trip. There was little information to be found about this recent (1996) find and all I knew was that it wasn’t far from the town of Juli. When I asked him about it, Vidal was familiar with this off-the-beaten-track site and added it to our itinerary.

At the entrance to the Valley of the Spirits.

The portal of Aramu Muru is known as “Gate of the Gods” or “Gate to Heaven”.

The structure pre-dates the Inca civilization by hundreds of years. (It is very similar to a portal in Tiahuanaco, Bolivia, and may date back to the Tiwanaku culture.) The legends say that the God Meru’s “Temple of Illumination” lies behind the 23 feet by 23 feet (7 m x 7 m) portal. The niche in the center is the keyhole and it can only be unlocked by certain people at certain times. (That we’re still here just goes to show that we weren’t there at the right time.)

This “stargate” of sorts gets its name from an Inca priest who was traveling from Tiahuanaco to Cusco. In his possession was the sacred symbol of the Inca empire, the gold sun disc. The story goes that he passed through the gate into a parallel world, taking the disc with him. Neither have been seen since.

Percy related another version of the legend to us, which I like better because it closes the loop on the disappearance of the sun disc from Qoricancha, the sun temple in Cusco. The story goes that Meru gave the disc to the God Viracocha, who took it to Cusco, where he built Qoricancha to house the disc. When the Spanish arrived and started looting the empire of its treasures, Virachocha took the disc from Qoricancha and dropped it into the depths of Lake Titicaca to keep it safe from the conquistadors. The disc has not been seen since.

For those interested, there’s more information about Aramu Muru here.

Percy, whose grandfather was a shaman, had a surprise in store for us here. He’d brought some things to make an offering to Meru and asked us to participate. Placing a sheet of paper on the ground, he handed each of us a carnation and showed us how to shred the petals to form a circle on the paper. That done, he produced a bag of coca leaves and instructed us to pick three leaves each, making sure to select whole, unbruised leaves, and put them inside the circle of petals. I asked him if it would be OK to add a little something ourselves, which seemed to please Percy immensely. The only thing in my pocket was some hard candy — three of them to be exact — a fortuitous number.

With some “sweetness” added, Percy started to wrap everything up in the paper he’d laid down. As he was doing so, a gentle breeze blew one of Mui’s coca leaves off the paper and towards him. When Mui returned the leaf, Percy noted that it had a wrinkle at the tip and asked if Mui had a headache — which he admitted that he did!!!

The offering now intact, Percy approached the "keyhole," whispered some words, and then called me up to take my turn meditating at the portal and asking Meru for his permission to make the offering. After Mui took his turn, he returned the packet to Percy who went up to the portal, opened the packet, and sprinkled its contents at the foot of the keyhole and around the rest of the portal. He then stepped into the keyhole, placed his hands on either side — sort of spread-eagled — and prayed to Meru. There are those who believe that if one touches the frame of the keyhole with both palms that they will have visions. Considering the personal nature of such things, we did not ask Percy if he saw anything.

Left: Mui asks Meru’s permission to make an offering.
Right: Percy scatters our offering to Meru at the foot of the “keyhole.”

True believer or not, I have to admit that I felt at peace with the universe during our visit to Aramu Muru; Mui later affirmed that he was similarly at ease and happy while we were at the site. The sense of contentment was similar to the feelings we’ve had when visiting vortex sites in Sedona, Arizona where positive energy is said to far outweigh negative energy. So, although we had no visions of the kind that a true believer might have at Aramu Muru, there’s definitely something special and spiritual about the site.

Click here for a short clip of the offering ceremony.

Next Up: Day 12 — Chucuito & Templo de Inca Uyo

Day 12 — Chucuito & Templo de Inca Uyo

Tuesday — April 14

If you are easily offended by phallic symbology, don't go past Santo Domingo in this post.

A short drive from Aramu Muru brought us to a town that gave the appearance of being deserted. On first glance, it looked like not a soul was stirring, but a closer look revealed locals here and there going about their daily business.

It was a photo of Chucuito’s Plaza de Armas and the words “charming, Spanish-style square; Inca settlement; capital of the province” that had prompted me to ask Vidal to include the town on our itinerary. It turns out that he had already done so and meant to surprise us on the way back from Aramu Muru. Ooops; didn’t mean to spoil the surprise.

Plaza de Armas is nearly deserted mid-afternoon on a Tuesday.

These Aymara women are a few of the locals we see going about their business in Chucuito.

With its white, wrought iron railings and lush green topiaries, I found the square of this small Aymara town on the southeastern shore of Lake Titicaca to be both charming and welcoming. We wandered around for a while, eventually ending up at the church that dominates the square — Nuestra Señora de la Asunción. The church, which dates back to 1601, was closed. Since our time here was limited anyway, we did not seek out someone to unlock the doors for us.

Left: A topiary sculpture welcomes us to Chucuito with wide-open arms.
Right: Curious about the oversized jug? It’s the public “baño!”

The Nuestra Señora de la Asunción is one of two churches in Chucuito.

Left: A closer look at the façade of the church.
Right: Juxtaposed against an ad for beer, the cross makes an interesting photo.

Next we walked a short distance down a narrow, cobblestone street to take a look at Santo Domingo, the second colonial era church in Chucuito. It too was closed. In fact, Percy told us that there was no resident priest and that the church was open only on special occasions.

Santo Domingo sits pretty against a background of brilliant blue skies.

After we finished taking photos at Santo Domingo, Percy asked if we would be offended if he took us to see Inca Uyo, a fertility temple next door to the church. Curious, we told him to lead the way. At first, the walled-in compound looked quite innocuous — children were playing soccer; women were sitting on the grass waiting for someone to show an interest in their trinkets.

Aymara women wait for tourists to visit the temple and buy their trinkets.

Then we looked towards the far end of the enclosure. Oh wow! Fertility temple is right! The small “stone garden” was strewn with phallic columns of varying sizes. Some of them were pointing to the sky — towards Inti (the Sun God); others were planted upside down — towards Pachamama (Mother Earth).

Percy explained that the temple had been buried and abandoned, with most of the columns removed by the locals. At some point not long ago, the good people of Chucuito decided that the site would bring curious tourists to their town. They restored the temple as part of their “business improvement plans.” It obviously worked; as we were preparing to take our leave, a busload of giggling tourists descended on the temple.

Left: Inca Uyo is next door to the Church of Santo Domingo.
Right: A few of the 86 phallic columns at the fertility temple.

The popular story goes that the Amerindian women of the Inca empire would visit the temple and sit on the columns to increase their fertility. Inca priests would pour chicha (ceremonial maize beer) over them, and read the path of the beer to determine the gender of the baby-to-come. An opposing view has the purpose of the temple directed at men and says that it was intended to help men improve their virility.

Was the site a fertility temple to begin with, or has it been touted as such for enough number of years that fiction has become an accepted fact? Does the word uyo, which means “field” in Aymara, but “penis” in Quechua, contribute to the confusion? I really don’t know, but the visit did cause a chuckle or two to escape our lips as we made our way to the van for the return trip to Puno.

Footnote: Here’s a New York Times article I found on the subject of Inca Uyo. Read it and make up your own mind.

Next Up: Day 12 — A Relic of Peruano Naval History Restored

Day 12 — A Relic of Peruano Naval History Restored

Tuesday — April 14

From our balcony at Casa Andina, I had noticed a boat docked not too far away. On the ride back from Chucuito to Puno, I asked Percy if it might be the Yavari, a gunboat-turned-museum. He said no, explaining that it was a sister ship, the SS Ollanta, which is in the process of being transformed into a restaurant. When he went on to say that the Yavari was docked at the Sonesta Posada Hotel del Inca, I suggested to Mui that we make a detour to check out a piece of the country’s naval history. Percy and Leo dropped us off in front of the Sonesta and off we went to explore the former gunboat.

The MN Yavari is a museum that may one day become a working vessel again.

In 1861, the Yavari, and her sister ship, the Yapura, were ordered from a shipbuilder in England. The two gunboats, and the drydock required to assemble them, were shipped in 2,766 pieces, traveling to Perú via Cape Horn (no Panama Canal yet to speed up the journey). From the port of Arica (then Peruvian), the pieces were put on a train to Tacna. Over the next six years, mules were used to transport the pieces up the Andes Mountains to Puno, where the boats were re-assembled. On Christmas Day 1870, the Yavari was launched; the Yapura followed two years later.

The Yavari served as part of the Peruvian Navy for 100+ years before it was acquired by an Anglo-Peruvian association in 1975. The boat was converted into a museum with the eventual goal — yet to be realized — of offering day-sails on Lake Titicaca.

The capstan on the bow of the Yavari.
(the ship off the bow is the SS Ollanta, which will be getting a second lease on life as a restaurant)

We were welcomed aboard by Antonia, a ten-year member of the crew. She gave us an excellent tour that took us from the engine room in the bowels of the boat, to the cabins below decks, to the wheelhouse above decks. From the shellacked wood surfaces, to the gleaming brass accents, to the black and white paint job, the boat was in shipshape condition. Obviously the restoration of the Yavari is a labor of love for the small crew charged with maintaining it on a daily basis.

In what used to be the captain’s quarters, we were invited to watch two short videos that gave us background information about the boat and the ongoing project to restore it back to working condition. In fact, the boat has successfully passed its “lake trial.” They are currently working on the next stage — bringing it up to safety codes so that the Yavari can provide day cruises on Lake Titicaca. Now that’s something I would like to do one day.

Our tour of the Yavari took us from the cabins below decks to ...

… the engine room and the wheelhouse.

A video presentation is part of the tour of the Yavari.

After adding our small donation to the coffers of the restoration project, which by the way, was made possible with the support of HRH The Duke of Edinburgh (aka Prince Philip), we took our leave of the Yavari.

You can find more information on the Yavari here.

When he dropped us off at the Sonesta, Percy had shown us where to catch one of the red “collectivos” (shared taxis) to get back to Casa Andina. It sounded like a good idea at the time. As it had grown considerably chilly since then, however, we decided to have the concierge at the Sonesta call a taxi for us. Ten minutes later — half of which was spent waiting for the cab to arrive — we were at our hotel. A cozy fire in the corner hearth in the lobby and a cup of té de muña (Andean mint tea; tastes like spearmint) helped restore the warmth back into our chilled bodies.

A warm fire is welcome on a cold evening on the shores of Lake Titicaca.

We went down to the dining room around 6:30p — early by Latin standards, but we were starving. Both of the fireplaces were lit, adding a sense of coziness as we enjoyed a delicious meal at our window-side table with a view of the twinkling lights of Puno studded against the inky darkness of the night. Having enjoyed my sampling of Mui’s lunch entrée, saqta de gallina, I ordered it as my main course. Mui decided to have the “other red meat” — alpaca; he deemed it to be cooked to perfection. We rounded out dinner with a chocolate and passion fruit tart layered with English cream and topped with homemade ice cream — heavenly.

We’re not the only early birds in the Casa Andina dining room.

Left: Saqta de Gallina is a chicken stew commonly found on menus in this part of Perú.
Right: Can we bear to destroy this work of art? You bet!

The rest of the evening was a quiet one. We spent it checking email (free wifi in the room) and backing up photos. With a full day on Lake Titicaca awaiting us the next day, we called it an early night.

Next Up: Day 13 — Islas Flotantes de los Uros

Day 13 — Islas Flotantes de los Uros

Wednesday — April 15

On our way to breakfast, we found the tile pathways in the garden wet from the overnight rain. The overcast skies gave every indication that there was more wet stuff to come. We could easily deal with the chill in the air by wearing our layers, but rain would put a real damper on our day on Lake Titicaca. As it was only 6:00a, we crossed our fingers, hoping the weather would clear before long and continued onto the dining room. The breakfast buffet was quite extensive; plenty of choices, both hot and cold, to provide us with a filling meal to start the day.

Casa Andina offers an extensive breakfast buffet.

There are numerous options for cruising Lake Titicaca, the world’s highest navigable lake (about 12,500 feet (~3,810 m) above sea level). They range from organized tours by reputable companies to impromptu tours by independent boat owners. My pre-trip research had suggested that an organized group was the way to go. With that in mind, although we’re not a fan of group tours, I had asked Vidal to book us on the “Remote Taquile and Uros” tour offered by All Ways Travel.

Before leaving us the day before, Percy had told us that Veronica from All Ways would be by to pick us up at 6:45a, but that we would be joining another company’s tour because no one else had booked with All Ways for the same date. Having read that the practice of co-mingling tours, especially during the shoulder season, is quite common, this did not come as a complete surprise.

Our itinerary today includes the Floating Islands of the Uros and Taquile Island.
(the green star marks Sillustani, which we hope to visit tomorrow)
(map compliments of the All Ways Travel website)

What did come as a surprise was seeing Vidal’s smiling face when we went to the lobby to meet up with Veronica. He’d gotten on a bus as soon as the strike was over the day before and traveled overnight to join us in time for our cruise. We were delighted to see him and appreciated the extra effort he had made to keep his commitment to us. On the way to the boat dock, he told us about his journey, which included frequent stops where the passengers joined the bus driver to clear the road of boulders and other debris so that they could get through to Puno.

We arrived at the dock under a slight drizzle. First to board the 24-passenger motorboat that would be our transport for the day, we had our pick of the seats. It wasn’t long before the rest of the group showed up with Walter, our official guide for the day, and we were off to Islas Flotantes de los Uros (the Floating Islands of the Uros).

We get our pick of the seats on the motorboat.

The ride across Puno Bay to the Uros Islands was a smooth one. On the way there, Walter provided an ongoing commentary about Lake Titicaca, the floating islands, and the people who inhabit them.

This Google Earth image shows the floating islands located in an arm of Puno Bay.
(also note location of Casa Andina Private Collection and the Yavari)

The man-made floating islands are constructed from the totora reed. The pre-Inca Uros people created floating islands originally to protect themselves from the attacks of their aggressive neighbors, the Incas and the Collas. Today, the 2,000 or so descendants of the culture continue the practice to a certain extent (a good number of them have abandoned the old ways and now live on the mainland).

The islands are formed by harvesting the totora reed and bundling them together into rafts offshore. They are anchored by ropes tied to sticks driven into the bottom of the lake, which is quite deep — about 50 feet (15 m) at the offshore island we visited. Once the island is formed, buildings are constructed — also of the same totora reed. The upkeep of the islands is constant. As the bottom layer of reeds rot, a new layer is added — about every three months. After 30 years or so, a new island has to be built and the old one is abandoned to mother nature. Each island/raft is home to an extended family. If there’s a falling out amongst family members, they simply saw off a portion of the raft and float off to create their own little island nearby.

One of the Floating Islands of the Uros.

When we arrived at the group of islands located in an arm of Puno Bay, we stopped at a guard tower where the captain of our boat received instructions on which island to visit — in this way, not only is over-crowding of visitors eliminated, but each island gets to make money by selling their wares and providing totora boat rides.

We tied up to Tata Inti, our designated island, to a chorus of kamisaraki greetings — “hello” in Aymara. Having been taught the word by Walter, we responded with equal enthusiasm. (The original language of the Uros people has been lost.) Walking on the island was akin to walking on a sponge, with the reeds giving slightly with each step. Having read that it is not unusual to put a foot through the reeds, we were especially careful — taking a dunking in the ice-cold waters of Lake Titicaca would not have been a good way to start off our visit.

A “we were at the Uros Islands” photo op.
(photo by Vidal)

As a group, we were led to a circle of totora reed benches, which the women were hurrying to cover with blankets since the recent rain had drenched the seats. In the amphitheater of sorts, the “president” of this family group demonstrated how the reed islands are constructed. He completed his presentation by placing miniature reed houses on the totora raft he had created, pointing out that the first to be added is always the “president’s house.”

The president demonstrates the building of a floating island.

As the demonstration concluded, the light drizzle that had let up briefly started to fall again. Unfazed, we walked around the island; climbed the watchtower for an aerial view of the area; peeked into a home or two that the islanders were eager to show us; checked out the goods they were selling — yes, we did buy a little something to support the local economy.

Tata Inti and some of the other Uros islands from the watchtower.

This young woman was eager to show me her home and her “baby.”
(photo by Vidal)

Totora reed trinkets make up the bulk of the goods sold by the islanders.

Had the drizzle not turned into a full-blown downpour, we would have spent more time exploring the island and might have even taken a ride on one of the totora boats. Seeing as how we were not going to get much more out of this visit, I suggested to Walter that we move onto the next part of our itinerary and, weather permitting, make another stop at the floating islands at the end of the day. Since most of the group had already sought the shelter of the boat’s cabin, he was amenable to that suggestion. We thanked the president for his hospitality, bid him jakisiñkama (goodbye), and boarded our boat to continue our day on Lake Titicaca.

Next Up: Day 13 — Isla Taquile

Day 13 — Isla Taquile

Wednesday — April 15

Lake Titicaca is the remnant of an ancient inland sea. It is 122 miles (196 km) long and averages a width of 35 miles (56 km). The second part of our boat tour took us into the main body of the lake, “Lago Grande” (aka Lago Chucuito), which reaches depths of 932 feet (284 m).

The lake plays an important role in Inca mythology. According to one legend, Manco Capac and Mama Ocllo emerged from the depths of Lake Titicaca on “Isla del Sol” (Sun Island; now on the Bolivian side of the lake) and journeyed to Cusco to found the Inca Empire. Another important legend is the one I wrote about in my post on Amaru Muru. In this story, Viracocha throws the gold sun disc into the depths of the lake to save it from the looting conquistadors. (Could this latter legend be based on fact? Jacques Cousteau must have thought there was enough of a possibility; he mounted an expedition to explore the lake with a mini-sub. His efforts were to no avail and the disc remains lost to this day.)

Once outside Puno Bay, the water became quite rough. Having taken a precautionary dose of Dramamine, I survived the 2½-hour ride to Isla Taquile, but it was tough going towards the end. Luckily, the driving rain that had been accompanying us let up as we approached the Chucuito Peninsula and I was able to go out on the small aft deck. Breathing fresh air and keeping my eyes on the horizon allowed me to complete the journey without an embarrassing incident.

Our boat is not unlike this one that is motoring alongside on our way to Taquile.

Some fresh air helps to clear my head.
(photo by Vidal)

Isla Taquile, which was part of the Inca Empire, was one of the last places in Perú to surrender to the conquistadors. After it was captured, the island was passed onto Count Rodrigo of Taquila — hence the name the island is known by today. When the Spanish banned traditional dress, the islanders adopted the Spanish peasant dress, combining it with Andean-style garments (ponchos, belts, mantles, coca-leaf purses, etc.). In fact, Taquile is known for the exceptional quality of the local products woven on the island — every man, woman, and child knows how to spin and weave.

The people of Taquile practice the moral code of the Inca — “ama sua, ama llulla, ama qhilla” (Quechua for: don’t steal, don’t lie, don’t be lazy). Their economy is based on fishing, terraced farming (potato cultivation is important), and tourism — approximately 40,000 tourists visit each year. As we learned from the Danish NGO worker whom we met in Ollantaytambo, the islanders are implementing communitarian tourism that will someday enable them to offer more to visitors — I hope in a way that doesn’t dilute the experience we were able to enjoy today.

I had chosen this particular tour that starts on the north side of the island for two specific reasons: (1) this side of the island is less-visited, and (2) although the hike to the main village is longer, it is a gradual climb that involves no stairs. Shortly after our boat docked at 11:00a, we began our walk. We let the rest of the group take the lead. Soon, they were out of sight and the four of us — Mui, Vidal, Veronica, and I — had the path to ourselves.

The weather was absolutely perfect — the rain long gone; blue skies with puffy, white clouds overhead; a slight breeze to keep the temperature comfortable. We stopped often to enjoy the views, smell the flowers, check out the grazing sheep, and talk to the Taquileños whom we encountered along the way — we even saw a couple of the local men knitting while they were walking (a common practice on the island). I am happy to report that we had absolutely no problems completing this high-altitude walk.

Left: View of Lake Titicaca from the path to the village on Isla Taquile.
Right: The men of Taquile are known for their knitting skills.

Gates like this one add charm to the path that we’re climbing.
(photo by Vidal)

Curious about us, this sheep stops grazing and provides a great photo op.

Modern day technology has found its way onto the island.

After loitering a bit in the village square, we rejoined our group, which had just sat down to a traditional meal of quinoa soup and grilled trout served with rice and potatoes, two staples of Peruano cuisine.

The first course of quinoa soup …

… is followed by grilled trout.

After lunch, Walter gave us a presentation about the traditional daily attire of the Taquileños. From the color of the men’s hats, to the way those hats are worn, to the size of the pompoms on the women’s dresses, the various accessories carry significance as to a person’s marital status. Later, when one young man showed interest in our blushing Veronica, we knew he was a bachelor and jokingly gave consent for him to court her. Could we have been witnesses to a budding romance?

Left: Walter and his assistants discuss the significance of traditional attire.
Right: Walter shows us a belt woven by a bride-to-be for her future husband. Women used to weave these belts using their own hair. Today, this practice has been abandoned and wool yarn is now used.

After lunch it was time to tackle the 500+ steep, uneven steps leading down to the main dock on the south side of Taquile. (No, I didn’t count the steps to verify the number; I was too busy making sure that I wasn’t going to come to a nasty end as I negotiated my way down.) I have to hand it to the Taquileños we encountered; they were going up and down the steps with heavy burdens ranging from propane bottles for cooking and heating, to daily staples, to construction material.

A photo op before we start the descent to the main dock at Isla Taquile.

On our way down, we met our NGO friend; she remembered us from our visit in Ollantaytambo. We introduced her to Vidal and the two of them had a lengthy chat about the goals of the NGO. We offered to give her a ride on our boat, but she was traveling with a group. Since we didn’t have room for everyone, we bid her adios, wishing her continued success with her program.

The return boat ride took only 2 hours thanks to the calmer conditions. Mui and I spent most of it on the small aft deck — enjoying the sunshine and the warm breeze as we made our way back to Puno, but first a stop …

Next Up: Day 13 — Uros Islands (Part 2)

Day 13 — Uros Islands (Part 2)

Wednesday — April 15

On our way back from Isla Taquile, we took advantage of the clear skies and made another stop at Islas Flotantes de los Uros (the Floating Islands of the Uros). This time we were directed to dock at the island of Q’ota Marca. As we had already attended the “construction presentation,” this visit was less structured. We walked around at will, chatting with the locals, browsing the items for sale, and checking out the huts.

Back for a another peek into life on the Floating Islands of the Uros.

Open for business.

The public kitchen on Q’ota Marca.
(note the solar panel; modern day technology makes life a bit easier)

A family elder clings to the old ways.

Everything was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, adding a false sense of warmth to the scenery. In reality, with the sun low on the horizon, the temperature had taken a sudden dip and it was downright cold.

This time it’s the cold that has us skipping the totora boat ride.

As our motorboat pulled away and headed towards Puno, we stayed on the aft deck for a while to watch the totora reeds swaying in our wake — a mesmerizing and dreamy lakescape that was worthy a click or two of the shutter.

Totora reeds swaying in our wake.

Once we were back in Puno, we took a cab into the town center, but the failing light and the chill did not invite us to stick around for long. We took a quick peek at the cathedral, bid Vidal and Veronica a good evening, and hopped in another cab and returned to our hotel, where a crackling fire in the hearth welcomed us back from a really great day on the lake.

Although the dining room was almost at capacity when we went down around 7:00p, we had no problems being seated at our usual window-side table. This time we both opted for seafood — Mui ordered the glazed kingfish encrusted with sesame seeds and served with mashed potatoes and crunchy tempura vegetables; I ordered the lake trout paupiette, stuffed with shrimp and served with a yellow chili beurre blanc and paprika potatoes. The Buñuelos we ordered was more than just desert; it was a pièce de résistance. The deep fried balls of dough reminded us of “lokma,” a Turkish dessert, but that’s where the resemblance ended. Each piece of the fried delicacy was stuffed with creamy caramel and served on a mint-pecan bed with a side of goat cheese and mascarpone ice cream. Yummy, yummy!

Sesame encrusted glazed kingfish.

Lake trout stuffed with shrimp.

Buñuelos — what goodness!

When our itinerary started to get tight, we debated skipping Lake Titicaca on this trip to Perú. I’m so glad we didn’t — our few days here have been great. And it’s not quite over yet; we get to do a bit more sightseeing tomorrow on our way back to the Juliaca airport.

Next Up: Day 14 — Heading Out of Puno