Fri 9th Jan: Into Bolivia

I catch the bus to Copacabana with regret that I´m leaving Peru. Its overcast and soon starts to rain, adding to the gloom. This is a relatively short hop from Puno across the border. It takes about three hours but much of this is taken up by delays at the two border posts at the frontier.

The countryside along here is remarkably likje the west of Ireland. Its wet, green, the fields all have stone walls. Cattle and sheep graze on the grass. The only difference is the people who tend the animals and the altitude.

Once evcerybody has the Bolivian stamp on their passport the makes a 10min drive down to Copacabana which appears suddenly and dramatically on the lake shore, huddled between two hills. On the edge of town an official comes on board to collect an entry tax. This is novel. I´ve paid plenty of departure taxes in Peru but this is the first time I´ve paid to enter a town.

First impressions of Copacabana aren´t great. I´m missing Peru, its damp, overcast. Its a relatively small town and I have little difficulty in finding the Hostel I´d like to stay at. I take a small box room under a staircase. The bathroom is across a central courtyard which my room faces onto. I don´t mind though. The room is only 15 Bolivianos (less than e.u.2). The hostel is simple but quite attractive arranged around a cobbled courtyard. It is decorated simply with Inca motifs.

I walk through the central plaza from where all the buses and collectivos depart. As the buses move off the place gets choked with black noxious fumes from the exhausts. Walking up one of the main streets the place seems very touristy. There are souvenir shops decked out with all the touristy hats, jumpers, bags etc. There are no ATMs in town but plenty of moneychangers who give you Bolivianos for a hefty commission. A brief climb to the top of this street opens on to a second Plaza on the right of which stands a remarkable church which looks ditinctly like a mosque. Its one of the most unusual churches I´ve seen and dominates the plaza.

I get some money changed and sort out a ticket for a trip onto the lake to see La Isla Del Sol, the sacred island of the Incas and still home to a substantial population of 5,000. Its only 20 Bolivianos (eu 2.50) for a day trip. I´m beginning to like this place. By now the sun has come out and its a lovely afternoon. I head for one of the hills overlooking the town, Cerro Calverio. There´s a steep, twisting, cobbled path which leads to the summit. At intervals along the way stations of the cross mark the route. By the looks of thenumbers doing the stations today Catholocism is still strong in Bolivia. The path is busy with people climbing and descending. Groups of families cluster around the stations, praying. At the top a surprise is in store. Numerous stalls sell toy cars, model houses, fake dollars etc. Its like an open air toyshop surrounding the 14th station. It turns out these toys are to be used as little votive offerings to the Gods. People buy the cars, houses, dollars and place them in little plots which are allocated around the summit. I watched as extended families came placed their model houses into the plot, decorate them with ribbons, douse them with beer/soft drinks and then set off fire crackers. Sometimes wads of fake dollars are placed on the houses. It is believed that by performing this ceremony your wishes for the coming year will be granted. The family brings a picnic and drinks and has a small celebration before returning back down the hill.

As one family leaves an old guy, obviously merry with beer, comes over to me and says hello. He asks me where I´m from and told me he was Aymara ( a tribe indigenous to Lake Titicaca) and speaks Quechuan. I thought Ireland was a long way away. A lot of what he said I couldn´t understand but we just laughed. The rest of the family gathered around all laughing with me.......... or perhaps at me. Before he left the old guy got to have a photo with the gringo.

Another large family, nearly 30, took the place of those leaving and set up there little models for their own ceremony. I was joined by 6 other backpackers, all of us toting our cameras like gunslingers, waiting for a piece of the action, to get some shots of this unusual ritual. Members of the family kept glancing up at us, conscious of what we were about. I didn´t take a photo. I felt it would be too intrusive so I left the family to their celebration and hiked back down to the town.

The views over Copacabana from this hill were spectacular. The place with all its quirks is starting to grow on me. In the evening sunshine the place looks so much better than it did this morning. I´m looking forward to seeing Isla del Sol tomorow. I hope the weather stays good.