Puno, Lake Titicaca and the Island of the Sun

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Although the Brazilians, and later Barry Manilow, took Copacabana and made it famous, the original lakeside Bolivian town has been a pilgrimage site for hundreds of years, and it from here that you depart for the Island of the Sun - the birthplace of Inca culture. Transturin operate two luxurious catamarans for tours to the Isla de Sol, and I quickly found myself drinking a cold beer, staring out at Titicaca’s immense horizon from the top deck. Jacques Cousteau discovered drowned ruins of ages past, the lake’s immense depth (over 400m), and a new, massive species of blind deep-water frog. For over 2000 years, Andean cultures have revered the sun-bleached, almost Mediterranean-like Sun Island The Incan deity, Viracocha, is believed to have begun creation from Titicaca, and the first Incan couple, the children of the sun, founded the Incan Empire on the Island of the Sun. It has been linked to Atlantis, ancient civilizations and is called “the womb of the world”, the source of life. From the deck of the modern catamaran, the water looked unnaturally pure, the sky deep-sea blue, and I got the feeling that Titicaca’s size and depth house many secrets yet to be discovered, Cousteau’s gigantic frog notwithstanding. An hour later, we arrived on the island for a fascinating tour encompassing the original Fountain of Youth, llamas, ancient priestly blessings, mummies, golden fertility idols, a huge traditional reed boat and wreaths of colourful, fragrant flowers. Transturin have created their own island complex, complete with museums, farmed terraces and animals, and it was more professional and informative than any of the museums I visited in Cusco. Sometimes, perhaps things are better left to the professionals. After an onboard buffet lunch, I napped on a small boat rowed by a father and son, dreamily disembarking on the north side of the island to walk amongst a maze of ruins at a breath-beating 4200m. A traditional ceremony involving burnt offerings to the gods was undertaken at the top of a mountain, and as the weathered priests personally doused my head, I felt like I was truly blessed to be experiencing a sacred tradition in one of the most exquisite vistas of the world. This is why I travel, and this is why you should too.

We spent the night on board the catamaran, treated to a delicious meal, traditional dancing, and iPod DJ as I got the pod to work with the pro PA theatre system. I satisfied most requests, except, with apologies to my father, John Denver. Our group was made up of all ages from all countries, and to my delight, with several Bolivianos too. I learnt the tango, draining bottles of good Bolivian red wine, watched lightning shoot across the dark, Andean sky. Bolivia, Patricia from La Paz tells me, is a beautiful, diverse country, encompassing the Andean highlands to the low Amazon basin. Its political woes are familiar to me from Peru, a constant tension between poor, indigenous populations and the Spanish descendants who control the political landscape. The military juntas that once made Bolivia famous for its death squads have given way to a civilian government, but just this week roadblocks and strikes threatened to cripple the country, forcing the president to resign, unsuccessfully. It has a wealth of natural resources, but its coca production has made it famous for its cocaine. I point out to Carlos the guide that the revered coca leaf, so central to Andean cultures, continues to have a massive impact on the modern world, albeit, in a different form. He agrees, with regret. Bolivians are proud of their country, quick to point out the differences with Peru, the value of the native Aymaran traditions as opposed to the Incan traditions, which absorbed them. But here is Barry Manilow, crooning, and I decide instantly to extend my stay in Copacabana.

At this moment, I am watching a storm move in from my hotel window, lightning pricking the dark horizon of the lake. Ollie from Cusco suggested the hotel La Cupula, which has a homely, funky ambiance, a delicious restaurant, and gorgeous views over the lake and beach. And hammocks, bless them. I heard Bolivia was cheap to travel, and it is. $10US affords me this amazing view with an apartment-sized hotel room. $5US a delicious dinner with a glass of wine. Charlotte, my exuberant traveling partner of the past two weeks has left for Buenos Aires, but a distinct energy impels me to want to stick around. Later this week I’ll take the three-hour bus ride to the highest capital city in the world, La Paz, ready to immerse myself in the wonders of Bolivia, never to forget my gonzo blessing on the Island of the Sun, at the top of the world.

Hostal La Cupula
Copacabana, Bolivia

Gonzo Gallery for Puno, Lake Titicaca and the Island of the Sun

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