The saga continues...

So our Puno, Peru experience was pleasant.  We spent just one night there in a chill hostel that reminded me of Grandma Zyph’s house.  I guess there was one complicated moment where Rob shaved all his hair off.   (This followed his do-it-yourself haircut possibly inspired by the terraces of Machu Picchu).  In Peru if you are tall and bald and Caucasian-looking, people stare.  Also, your friends make fun of you.  Anyway, the next morning Eitan and I took a boat out to the nearby “floating islands.”  They´re man-made islands constructed of reeds which last about 20 or so years, and then they just build a new one.   Some have become really touristy, but it is pretty novel to see a cow just walking around on some reeds in the middle of a lake.

Sadly, later that day Eitan took off for Colombia while Erin, Rob and I headed for Bolivia. Border-crossing was not entirely without incident as the Peruvian government tried to smuggle us across and the Bolivian government caught on.  Still, we made it to Copacabana, Bolivia in time for an unreal sunset and the next day we shipped out for Isla del Sol.  It´s just a boat ride from Copacabana, and it turned out to be one of my favorite places yet.  It´s such a pretty, peaceful island out in Lake Titicaca.  And no one wants to sell you anything; they just want to get their pigs out of the lake and get back home.  We spent the days exploring the island with Nacho, our newfound friend and housemate.  This meant making sand sculptures on deserted beaches, rating Incan ruins (Cuzco has made Incan Ruin Snobs of us) and swimming in Lake Titicaca.  While we were there the moon was huge and my evening memories are of Erin singing and Nacho playing guitar on the beach. 

One weird thing is that Spanish was the second language for a lot of the people on the island—a lot of people speak Aymara (one of the official languages of Bolivia).  The kids speak Spanish, too, but several of the adults I talked to struggled with it.  It´s also been fun to hear little differences in the Spanish of these different countries.  Honestly, Bolivian and Peruvian Spanish has been easier to follow for me.   They seem to speak slower and enunciate more clearly.  Anyway, we took it pretty easy for a few days on Isla del Sol--there amongst the donkeys and sheep--before we returned for one more night in Copacabana.  Then towards the Bolivian capital of La Paz!!

I hated it.

Ok.  That´s severe.  But I will say that it was hands-down my least favorite city so far.  It was bad.  (This is probably not an unbiased opinion, however it is still my opinion.)  I got up early the first morning to explore (it is enormous) and either the outrageous altitude or the delicious street food I had for breakfast set out to kill me.  Refusing to believe I was actually ailing until I had passed out and then thrown up all over a quiet little internet café, I finally surrendered to my sick bed.  There I remained more or less the rest of the time.  (Unfortunately for Erin, we were sharing a twin bed.)  Someday I hope to give that city another chance.

La Paz was followed by Sucre, the “other capital” of Bolivia.  Stucco and tile roofs and sunshine through the rain.  Very pretty, but we were only there for one night before we set out for the Bolivian salt flats of Uyuni.  Halfway there the bus (which had been cranking little snippets—never full songs— of terrible 80s rock and reggaeton) stopped.   Just stopped.  In the middle of the nowhere.  A deserty sort of place, with a rundown, little house.  Absolutely nothing else.  Everyone got out.  We did too.  Everyone went into the puzzling little place.  After looking at each other, we did too.  We played the part of unconcerned, expert bus passengers while we slowly gathered that the bus always stops there so people can buy lunch from the people that live in the house.  On the menu that day?   “False rabbit.”   Yeah, we don´t know, but it was good.

But on to Uyuni.  I´m a little embarrassed to say that this was not something that was on my list of South American must-sees.  (That is one of the huge benefits to travelling with other people; you end up in places you just wouldn´t have gone.)  They are… highly recommendable.  On our way out to the flats I was sort of bummed because our jeep just plain died.  (And frankly a little worried, too.)  The thing is those jeeps go through salt water every day of their [probably short] lives, and I just can´t imagine that’s good for them.  The man driving just did some things, though, and we got going again. 

Pretty soon we entered what appeared to be some sort of interactive surrealist painting.  So, the ground is made out of salt.  Like, it´s white and hard and geometric.  It had rained the night before.  That means there was an inch or two of standing water.  Then all the blue from the sky above is reflected off the giant mirror created by all that glistening white ground… and it is bizarre-o.  Your brain just can´t quite figure it out.   I left very impressed, and with salt all over the place.   It was a lovely conclusion to Peru and Bolivia. 

And now? Onward to Argentina!

Street watermelon in Puno, Peru.

Floating Islands of Puno... (they look like they´re attached to those hills, but they´re not. Trust me.)

Oh, Rob. Because we weren't conspicuous enough.

Just another night with a sunset and a moonrise not so far behind (Copacabana, Bolivia). 

Isla del Sol, Bolivia.

Isla del Sol, again. Just a man, his boat, and Lake Titicaca.

Nacho the roomie, just hanging out outside our room with the kids that lived there.

Gorgeous Isla del Sol. Notice the lack of people.

Copacabana street, take II.

Typical of pretty Sucre.

I accidently bought these two giant mangos in Sucre. 

That first rainy night in Uyuni was spent in strange café with mediocre hot chocolate and Lady Gaga videos playing in the background.

Salt flats of Uyuni. See what I mean by crazy?

So, this is the ground there.

Erin and I practicing our best circus routine.

(Salt flats, continued)