I’ve made it a hop, skip and a jump across the border to the other side of the lake. That’s right, I’ve now officially left Peru and crossed over to Bolivia.
Before I continue with today’s entry: What the heck is happening back home? I leave for a week and you guys decide to have a flood??? I hope you’re all staying safe and dry. I also feel weirdly like I’m missing out on some historic event that everyone will be talking about for years to come, like Ice Storm ’98 or the Flood of ’87. Where were you when…? Well, in my case, I’ll have to say Lake Titicaca. Very strange.
Hopping around the lake
I woke up this morning after possibly the best night’s sleep I’ve had yet on this trip, snug as a bug in my aptly-named Cozy Hostel dorm, with three quiet-as-mice dormmates. We partook in the generous included breakfast, and then everyone went their separate ways — which probably means I’ll bump into half of them by La Paz again, since that’s the nature of the backpacker circuit.
After breakfast, I was picked up by my bus company and driven down to the bus station at the harbour. There, I loaded onto a super-fancy double-decker coach, with plush semi-cama reclining seats, a sound system, a bathroom on board, and even movies. The ride to the border took just over two and a half hours, during which time I alternated between watching Tom Hanks in “Big” on the onboard screen, and staring at the beautiful views out the window.
The ride around the lake passes through a lot of small farming communities and local villages. It was interesting to see how the people here live. It’s just after harvest season, so there were some people working in the fields, baling hay and whatnot. The people are very traditional in these parts; they live simple lives that are reminiscent of a bygone era. The local language here is also different; in the rest of Peru, Quechua is spoken in addition to Spanish, but here, Aymara is the traditional language of the Peruvian people. (The Uro people, on the lake, also have their own history and culture, but it is sadly dying out as the younger generations integrate into mainstream Peruvian society).
A whole new country
We reached the border just after eleven, and headed into the Peruvian immigration office to get our exit stamps. Quick, easy. I couldn’t help but compare it to how long the same process took when we left India last year. Then, we unloaded our bags off the bus, and literally walked across the border to the next bus that was waiting for us on the other side. Bye, Peru! Hello, Bolivia!
We loaded the big bags onto the second bus, headed into the Bolivian border control office to repeat the process on this side. It was a quick, easy process here, too; they hardly looked at my entrance form, and nobody even asked about my yellow fever vaccine. Go figure.
The differences between the two countries weren’t immediately noticeable. Peru and Bolivia share Lake Titicaca, so the landscapes and local people are similar here. Being in Bolivia does mean getting used to a new flag (Bolivia’s red, yellow and green flag looks like it belongs to an African country, not a South American one), a new currency (the Boliviano is about 5:1 against the Canadian dollar, last I checked, and prices are noticeably cheaper here), and a new time zone (we’re ahead one hour from Peru, or back on the same time as Montreal).
Copacabana — no, not that Copacabana
Another twenty minutes on the bus, and we arrived at the small lakeside town of Copacabana. No, not the Barry Manilow Copacabana. Not the one in Brazil, either (though, interesting fact: this one came first and actually inspired the beach’s name in Brazil). This is a small touristy town on the shores of Lake Titicaca. There are a few sights and attractions in town, but most people are here to visit the lake.
The bus pulled into the stop next to White Anchor. Some people on the Bolivia Hop service are only stopping here for a few hours before continuing onto La Paz tonight, but I’ll be spending a couple of days here, so I unloaded my bags, and set off into town.
Together with two Vancouverites, I walked up to the main square in search of a few new-country necessities. First priority: finding an ATM to withdraw some Bolivian cash, since I had none. Unfortunately the first ATM we found was out of order. Luckily, the second one was working. Good thing, too, since I believe there are only three in the entire city.
That accomplished, I found a small shop selling SIM cards and hooked up my phone with service and data for the next couple of weeks. Compared to the bureaucratic nightmare of getting a SIM card in Peru, here it was a breeze. Of course, I suspect I didn’t do it through proper channels; the lady selling them probably registered them to her name and ID, so it’s likely a bit grey market. But hey, it works, so who cares?
Where the streets have no name
My bags were getting heavy, so I grabbed a taxi to my hotel. A good thing, too; this hotel is a bit outside of town, up a steep hill through some narrow dirt roads and through a ton of buildings that all appear to be under construction. On the booking, it was literally listed as being on “calle sin nombre”, which is Spanish for “no name street”. Good thing I’d been pre-warned, since I might have wondered where the heck my taxi driver was taking me. It’s a bit of a pain to be outside of town, but taxis are cheap ($2-$3 CAD per trip, tops) and the views more than make up for it.
This is a beautiful little guesthouse with hammocks, a breakfast terrace, and panoramic lake views. I have a private room here, so I’m feeling quite posh. And did I mention it’s only $15 US a night? This is going to be the perfect place to relax and chill out for a couple of days and take a mini-vacation from my vacation.
Sunset and lake trout
After a short siesta, I made my way down through the narrow streets from the hotel towards the town. After a few false starts, I found my way into the main part of town. The walk down was only about fifteen minutes, though up it would easily take twice that. Copacabana’s at 12,000 feet; even climbing a flight of stairs here is hard work.
I walked around town a bit — there isn’t much to it — and saw the Cathedral and the main square. I walked through the small market, which was closing up for the day, and tasted some of the giant popcorn that the vendors all seem to be selling here. It was a bit chewy; I’m not won over. As the sun started setting over the lake, I headed down to the shore to snap some photos. Copacabana’s beach faces west, so the sunsets are perfect here.
Once the sun went down, I found a restaurant for dinner. I’ve been forewarned that the fish is fresher here than anyplace else in landlocked Bolivia, so I opted for grilled trout, ’cause, why not, eh? (Also, my inner The Wire fan was amused by the lake trout reference).
After dinner, I went by the tiny supermarket to stock up on some necessities for tomorrow, like snacks and water, and then I caught a taxi back up the hill to my hotel. I’m looking forward to exploring more of the lake tomorrow. But first, some sleep.