The Lyons Diaries: Chapter 1

Lake Titicaca

Puno, Cuzco and Sacred Valley

Machu Picchu

The Amazon

Peru home

Our leader asked the American Airlines (AA) people to contact Miami to ask them to hold the plane. Unfortunately, AA claimed that their computers were down and they could not communicate with other AA offices any other way than by computer since, obviously, Mr. Bell's marvelous invention hadn't reached AA as yet. (Later, ever AA admitted that was an untruth. They did have telephones, but no one had a dime.)

When we finally arrived in Miami, the connecting AA flight to LaPaz had left without us thirty minutes earlier. It was midnight by then and Ellie, our leader, had to deal with AA to put us up. We finally got to bed in the Sheraton in Miami at 3 am. The next day Ellie had to do a lot of phone (and name) calling to get all 20 of us on the flight out that night.

We finally made it to LaPaz, Bolivia, 24 hrs late so we missed out on our day to get adjusted to the altitude, and our free time to become acquainted with LaPaz. When we did finally arrive at La Alta airport at 6 am, our guide, Reynaldo was actually ready for us. All the luggage was put on top of our coach with ropes run through each suitcase handle and then a stretchy net type tarp went on top. We weren't sure if this was to make sure the bags didn't fall off, that they wouldn't be stolen, or if the bags were some type of new bumper in case AA tried to bomb us before we could get out of the airport. With the bags properly stored, we descended into LaPaz (12,500 ft. ... the airport is around 14,400) as the sun was rising and the local people were preparing to go to work.

The city is in a valley with high mountains, some of them snowcapped, rising up to 18,000 feet around it. The interesting thing here is that the wealthy people live at the bottom of the valley. The poorer you are, the higher up the slopes you live.... somewhat of a reverse from most of the rest of the world.

As soon as we got into the hotel, we were served a special tea called "mate de coca" which is made by steeping the leaves of the coca plant in hot water. Yes, this is the same plant from which cocaine is extracted. The analogy has been made that mate de coca is to cocaine as rye bread is to rye whiskey (the strength is greatly decreased). The tea is supposed to help with altitude adjustment. It reminded me of Chinese green tea. It is light green in color and not unpleasant. We drank a lot of it the first week or so of our trip.

After our tea and checking in, we were shown to our room and told to try to sleep until lunchtime. It was good advice and we managed about 3 hours of sleep. The afternoon was filled with a mini-tour of the city and a walk through the local market as well as the cathedral. We also drove to the outer edge of the city to what is called the Valley of the Moon.

The landscape there is quite stark, a bizarrely eroded hillside full of pinnacles and miniature canyons. Everything is very, very dry. That evening we had dinner at a place near the hotel which also provided us with the first of many folkloric shows. Over the next three weeks we were to hear a lot of local groups and see a variety of folk dancing. (We're giving a prize to the person who can come closest to guessing how many times we heard El Condor Pass through our ears at these things!)

Our second day in Bolivia was July 3, my birthday. When I got off the elevator to walk into the lobby that morning, 6-8 people greeted me singing Happy Birthday. I got serenaded again that evening at dinner. Ellie had already told us that her plan was to celebrate our birthdays jointly (Jim's is July 5) on July 4th along with an Independence Day celebration, so I was surprised when everyone sang to me.

After breakfast, we pulled away from LaPaz and headed out into the countryside to visit an ancient archeological site called Tiahuanaco. Like many other inhabitants of this earth, the early people who lived here worshiped the sun. They cultivated a number of different crops and worked out an irrigation system in order to conserve the small amount of water they received each season. The Tiahuanaco culture flourished more than 1000 years ago and was considerably more advanced than the Inca. But something cataclysmic (possibly drought or extensive seismic changes) caused their decline and the civilization fell into decay by the time the Inca came into prominence.

There is a relatively new but excellent small museum at the site which we visited before walking around the site itself. In third world countries there is often very little money available for keeping up places such as this but they are doing a good job with what they have.

There were vendors' stalls on each end of the walk we took through the site, and we were besieged by youngsters who wanted to sell us their wares. They have come to base their prices on the US dollar, but only new "unbroken" bills. Having been alerted to this, we came armed with lots of new one dollar bills. The interesting thing is that they would not take any bill with even the smallest tear or fold. The bills had to be pristine. (But of course, the local currency we received when we changed money was horribly tattered.) It was convenient to be able to deal in dollars, especially in Bolivia since we were there so few days. We changed only a small amount of dollars into BOBS (Bolivianos, the local currency) and used it along with the dollars. After our morning at Tiahuanaco, we continued in the coach to Lake Titicaca and a lovely little hotel and living museum.

Lake Titicaca is the highest lake on earth (12,500+ ft above sea level) and is surrounded by peaks of the Andes which are nearly 22,000 ft high. The lake covers over 3500 square miles and is shared with Peru. The weather turns quite chilly in the late afternoon and evening. The living museum has a herd of llamas, alpacas and two vicunas along with a herdsman. There are small houses built in the style of the Aymara Indians who make up the majority of Bolivia's population. There also was a lady who demonstrates the backstrap loom for weaving, a replica of the reed boat RA that was used by Thor Heyerdahl. The local fellow who assisted Heyerdahl in constructing his reed boat now operates the little gift shop on site. He demonstrated how the reeds are plaited and worked together to make the very strong and floatable shallow boats. The small indoor museum was very modern with tape recorded messages describing the dioramas and artifacts. The dining room was built on stilts out over the lake and that night we had a delicious trout dinner. The lake was stocked years ago with a variety of rainbow trout as well as Dolly Varden, which is a type of freshwater salmon. Locally, they are called salmon trout. Both types of fish are delicious. Next to the dining room was the pier where the hydrofoil we were taking the next day was tied up.

After a sumptuous breakfast of fresh fruit, local hot cereal (quinoa), eggs, bacon and the most delectable bread, we boarded the hydrofoil, Fleche de los Andes (Arrow of the Andes) and headed toward the Islands of the Moon and Sun. Quechua (Peruvian Indian) mythology says that the founding parents of the Incas, Manco Capac and Mama Ocllo, emerged from the lake at the call of the sun god. The area we visited on the Island of the Sun was lush with a natural stream running down the hillside in a stone channel first constructed during pre-Inca times. Steps had been built up alongside the stream with a wonderful view from the top. It was July 4th and Ellie had come armed with small American flag pins and flags to wave. She gave each of us several to give to the local people we would meet that day. Needless to say, the children who greeted us on both islands were delighted to receive these items.

Back on the hydrofoil we sped toward Copacabana, our last place to visit in Bolivia. It is famous for its miracle-working dark Virgin of the Lake, the patron saint of Bolivia. An image of the Virgin was taken to Rio de Janeiro last century and the village found itself giving its name to a (now more well known) Brazilian beach! Since it was Saturday, a market was in full swing with many of the locals in town from the countryside.

Also it was the day for the blessing of the vehicles. Whenever locals are able to afford a car or truck, they bring it to the cathedral for a blessing by the holy fathers so the proud new owner will be able to drive with abandon and, hopefully, be free of accidents and breakdowns. The locals decorate their new vehicle with lots of flowers, invest in firecrackers and champagne and make a donation to the Church and the nearest shaman so that both dark and light forces will bless their investment. The firecrackers are shot and the champagne poured over the vehicle, with a little going down the throats of the owner and his family. This was quite a sight to see!

Here in Copacabana, Reynaldo turned us over to our Peruvian guide, Deborah Jacobs, who is from Lima and of Spanish and Flemish ancestry. She would be with us until we went to the Amazon. We loaded onto a dilapidated Peruvian coach after lunch and a few miles down the road stopped to check out of Bolivia and into Peru. Lots of vendors crowded around us as we went in to have our passports stamped. This was also the first place we were really hustled by young boys wanting to shine your shoes. We gave away American flag pins to the kids and piled back into the coach to continue our journey in Peru.

All of a sudden we realized that sitting on the top step at the front of the coach was a young lady dressed in red and holding a large bundle. Someone asked Deb who this lady was. She was a vendor who had asked for a ride. Well, our group was full of rabid shoppers who would go into a shopping frenzy at the drop of a handicraft, so the cry went up, "What does she have to sell?" From that moment till we stopped at the next village to let her off, sweaters, socks, gloves and mufflers were passed around and dollar bills were shuffled back to her. She probably did a month's worth of business on that 40 minute bus ride!

Our destination was the town of Puno where we would stay for two nights. The town was rather desolate (read decrepit) but the hotel, situated on an island reached by a causeway was not. The place was built in 1980 by a private company but it was taken over by the Peruvian government and went down the tubes. About four years ago, it was acquired by a successful hotel chain. They are making drastic changes. Now, the lobby and restaurant are beautiful and the food was excellent. The rooms were still awaiting refurbishment and it was obvious.... threadbare carpet, very poor lighting and bathrooms that desperately needed updating. But I think the hotel may make it now. The main reason for being in this area was to visit the Uros Islands which are built from reeds and float on the lake in the vicinity of Puno. Puno is also the place from which the train to Cuzco leaves and Cuzco was our next destination.

Unfortunately, Ruth Marie was "under the weather" from a bout with turista the day of the visit to the reed islands so she stayed in bed while Jimmy had to do the touring for both. The reeds are located in a shallow but extensive cove in the northwest corner of Lake Titicaca. The region is spectacularly beautiful, but because the city of Puno has about 100,000 inhabitants and no sewage system, all the effluent is dumped into the cove. If you add 100,000 people to shallow water with little circulation you get major pollution. The only thing keeping the ecosystem functioning is an endless bloom of duckweed, which reaches depths of 8 to 10 inches in parts of the harbor when the wind is in the right direction.

Once you get past the smell and polluted water, the people who now call themselves Uros are an intriguing group living a fascinating (though now, artificial) lifestyle. It is reckoned that these Indians took to the reeds to escape the Conquistadors. No one knows why they assumed the name of the now extinct Uros, perhaps they learned to live in the reeds from a few Uros Indians who at that time still existed in the reeds. As recently as a few decades ago, the Uros were considered (by their fellow Peruvians)the most primitive form of human life in that country. The then liberal government was actively trying to get them to leave the reeds and become "real" citizens. About ten years ago someone suddenly realized that people were actually traveling to Peru to "visit" the Uros. Now, the government has an active program to try to get the young people to remain on the reed islands as somewhat of a living museum exhibit.

Until this year (with its El Nino rains), Lake Titicaca was at a very low level and all but a few of the "floating" islands have grounded on the lake bottom. When the lake level rises, the islands will either refloat, or most likely, sink and the Uros will face a decision of making new islands to live on, or of moving to terra firma. It'll be interesting to see what happens. Of the three islands we visited, only one was actually floating. The other two were very much stuck in the mud, to the point of actually being little more than ground partially covered with reed mats. The third, and largest island, where the Uros had gathered for a wedding, was all dry land with perhaps 10 percent covered with mats. My feeling was that this area would probably be able to survive anything but a real rise in lake level, although it would become much smaller, which would mean it could not support nearly as many people. At that point it would really be a case of reed or swim.

The Uros were extremely friendly and open. They seemed in no way disturbed to have so many tourists "drop" in on their wedding celebration. In fact, because we men tourists provided extra dancing partners for the Uros gals, we were downright welcomed... at least by the women! As with other places, our inveterate shoppers were able to discover plenty of wares to exchange for U.S. of A. dollars.

By that evening, after Ruth Marie had some oxygen and nothing but bottled water and Gatorade all day, it was time for a bowl of soup. Both of us slept pretty well that night, which was a good thing because we were up early and on the coach for the short ride to the train station in Puno to begin our 11-hour train trip which is another story in itself.

(Next chapter: Puno, Cuzco and the Sacred Valley)