Lake Titicaca and Copacabana

We left La Paz in the early morning as the sun broke through the mist and our bus steadily climbed to the heights of El Alto and the jigsaw-like assembly of shanty dwellings densely covering the hillsides, although Illamani was still shrouded in the clouds. Within a short while we had reached Huarina and could see the sapphire blue of Lake Titicaca stretching before us, with the drive and the countryside even being reminiscent of the Sorrento area. This idea was strongly reinforced as we crossed a narrow section of the lake by motor boat between two picturesque towns and looked out over the clear waters.
Copacabana lies between two hills, and predates its namesake in Rio de Janeiro and the Barry Manilow song. The town is the setting for many fiestas and carnivals, many with a strongly religious feel as the cathedral is the setting for the shrine of the Virgen de la Candelaria de Copacabana. Simon even managed to attend an evening mass at the shrine, where the priest blessed a processional rosary which the inquisitive pair had bargained for at the gift stalls lining the cathedral square. Earlier in the day we were sheltering from the rain in a café specializing in chocolate ice cream: when it arrived, we were both stunned! Jon had a cold around him and was freezing enough with the chilling Andean temperatures, but he certainly might give it a go next time!

As we prepared to leave Copacabana and Bolivia, three extraordinary things happened. Firstly, as we walked around the Plaza Major of Copa, we heard the rhythmic booming of a massive bass drum and the gentle wafting of a corpus of reed flutes playing an hypnotic and catchy ostinato. Throngs of Aymara women swarmed around the townhall, all in their traditional dress of pleated skirts, Norah Batty style leggings and shoes, manta and brightly coloured back wrap, all topped off with a rakish Bowler hat. There were far fewer men,and in respect of the ladies´ garments, they were somehow attired in the opposite manner to the animal or bird kingdom! But the music was solely the domain of the men... What kind of festival was this, and should we really be here? Suddenly the enthusicastic throwing of fragrant, red and orange flower petals, and the sudden appearance of a bashful, middle aged couple holding hands and being showered by the petals gives the game away. It´s a wedding, Aymara style!
The second happening suddenly jolted us back to our wonderful time in Bangladesh. Do you remeber the day we walked up Himachari beach as the storm clouds gathered, and we helped the local fishermen haul their boat up out of the water and onto the sandy foreshore? Well of course the special type of sailing craft here on Lake Titicaca is the reed boat, and as the rain commenced (it´s the rainy season here right now...) some local guys shouted at us to lend a hand in a vast tug of war to haul a large reed boat out of the lake. Magical times!
And finally, hunger gnawed at us, so it was time to try the local speciality of fried fillet of lake trout. This is, quite frankly, the best taste sensation we´ve experienced in the whole of Bolivia. Very flavoursome and moreish!