Monday, Sept. 8, 2003 - 5:09 a.m.
I've felt okay about traveling by myself, but I've had the expectation that I'd meet other travelers. Maybe that's why I was impatient to get to La Paz. I debated about going to the Isla del Sol because I've already been to other islands on the lake and seen plenty of Incan ruins. But everyone I talked to said they liked it, plus a half day tour was recommended by another traveler I'd met in Cusco.
Ledgend says that the sun and Manco Capas, the Inca, the son of the sun, were born at the Isla del Sol. It's a sacred place to the locals. Also, there is an Isla de la Luna too (Island of the Moon).
The boat ride out to the sialdn was soooooooo slow. Lots of other tourists were on the boat as well, most of them going on a full day tour. The weather was sunny and clear, absolutely beautiful. I could see the snow capped Bolivian mountains to the east. The dark golden land and terraced islands contrast sharply with the brilliant blue of the water and sky.
The boat finally stopped at a small inlet on the southeastern part of ther island about 2 hrs later. The inlet had a dock and tied next to it was a traditional Bolivian reed boat, similar to the ones I saw on the Uros Islands, but this one was a dual hull boat (like a catamaran) and had two reed "heads" that looked like the snarling heads of dragons. I was told I had an hour (not the promised 1 hr 45 min) before a different boat would take me back to Copacabana. Then I looked up and saw rising before me the Escalera del Inca (The Inca Staircase). Here I'd told the travel agent lady that I booked the tour with that I didn't want to do a lot of climbing and I'd seen enough stone steps on the Inca Trail to last a lifetime!
I slowly ascended the stone steps, stopping frequently to catch my breath, and saw at the top of the hill some Incan ruins. The steps went up awhile and thenleveled out to become a trail that wound between houses and other structures. Interestingly enough the trail bypassed the Incan ruins and I realized this was the main path that crossed the island from the NW to SE. This island has several Incan ruins but I didn't have time to visit any of them. It took about 20 minutes, huffing and puffing up the path, seeing lots of other gringos like myself traversing the island. I resented the fact that I had such little time. However, this island was very similar to the Amantani and Taquile islands on the Peruvian side of the lake. After a few photos it was time to head back.
I trodded along down the dirt path intersperced with small pebbles and unfortunately one step immediately found me landing on my tush, pain shootig through two fingers on my right hand that I instinctly held ou to catch my fall. Clutching my middle and ring fingers, sitting in the middle of the path, uttering a few obsenities, I had flashbacks of spraining myu wrist 1.5 years ago while snowboarding at Snoqualmie pass. I tried to see the humor of the situation thinking "Well, it'll be awhile before I can flip anyone off. So what."
I got back up and continued down the path, this time a little more carefully. Soon I was on a different boat with a bunch of different gringos. I noticed that my injured fingers were really swollen and aching. While sitting on the boat (again, very slow) I noticed the couple across from me was speaking English and one of them mentioned Cuenca. So I struck up a conversation with them, Jen and Dan from London. The amazing this is that aftera few minutes I found out that they had met and traveled with my friend and fellow teacher Penny and her friend Nick on a camping trip in Huaraz, Peru! Small world, huh?
Jen and Dan were also headed to La Paz that same day, but didn't have their bus tickets yet. We got lunch after we returned to the mainland, the restaurant was incredibly slow as well. I also saw Maria and David who had reunited with the Swiss girls (who hardly bothered to say hello to me, don't know what their problem was). They were taking off for the Isla del Sol then and there. I had lunch at the restaurant, but the service was so slow I wasn't able to go to the cathedral at 2:30pm to see the car blessing ceremonly, I only had time to get my bag from the hostal and catch my bus to La Paz, which was a large minibus completely packed, mostly of gringos, but also a few locals. I sat next to an indigenous woman and her young daughter, who sat in her lap or on the floor in front of her.
Soon we were on our way trolling along (again) beautiful countryside. I could see Lake Titicaca in the distance for quite awhile. After about an hour and a half we came to the Estretcho de Tiquina (Straits of Tiquina). Everyone departed the bus, which took a small barge across the narrow stretch of water (still a part of the lake). Us passangers got on another small motorboat which was twice as fast as the barge. On the other side we waited for the bus-laiden barge, then continued on our way.
The journey was to take 3.5 to 4 hrs, but 3 hrs into it we slowed down and eventually came to a full stop. I looked up and suddenly saw hundreds of people int he distance surrounding and blocking the road ahead of us. At first I thought it was a bad car accident, since the locals seem to relish in gawking at bad car accidents (fatalities seem to increase the number of spectators too). Soon people started to get off the bus to check it out. I soon joined them. Soon I asked a local what the deal was and found out it was a protest by the campisinos (local farmers) against the government. First I was told it was about gasoline but later learned it's some other problem between the locals and government. They had been blocking the road since 11AM and people speculated they would continue until midnight! (It was about 6pm at this time) I couldn't imagine being stranded like this, in the middle of the El Alto plains, so close to La Paz for 6 hrs!
During this time that us gringos stood around chatting I met two English girls, Jenny and Amie, a girl from Sweden named Helene and Nick, an English guy who had a 6am flight the next day out of La Paz to catch. Soon the sun was setting and it was starting to get colder, an ocasional chily wind would seep across the flat plain. We returned to the bus for shelter and sat for about another hour before I noticed the crowd moving along the road, away from us. It appeared the protest was ending, the other buses and vehicles around us started up their engines and traffic started to creep along behind the protestors. We soon joined the ranks in a bad traffic jam. Time slipped by as we inched along, the sun setting across the plain, daylight fading.
After awhile, we learned the protest wasn't over, in the dimlight I could make out indigenous people next to the road, campfires in the distance. Day turned to night and I was a little nervous about what the protestors would do and how late we would arrive in La Paz (I had envisioned arriving before the sun set, getting to a hostal before dark). We heard protestors shouting, someone translated for us, "We don't care about the people on the buses! Let them walk! This is *our* road!" While I was sorry for the locals, I just wanted to get to La Paz as quickly as possible. Someone had their window open. I wanted to tell them to shut it, you just don't know what the protestors were going to do.
I later learned that at times, the protestors did throw rocks and other objects at buses. We saw a lot of fist-sized rocks on the road. Also Jen and Dan caught a bus an hour after me. they told of how their bus drove off-road, driving along the bumpy plain to avoid the protestors. Also, another fellow traveler, Mike, told the horros of getting *out* of La Paz te next day to Oruro. The bus was delayed 6 hrs, finally leaving at 9pm and they hit tons of road blocks until the driver took to offroading along the El Alto, in the dark at 70mph without headlights!
Well, in total we were delayed about 2 hrs, we finally got into La Paz at about 8pm. We saw the city lights spread out before us, a beautiful sight! Jenny, Amie, Helene and I decided to share a taxi and went to the hostal that Jen and Dan told me they were staying at. But it was full, so we went to another hostal nearby. This one was full as well. I didn't understand whyu these places were full on a Monday night until someone said that due to the protests people couldn't *leave* La Pa. At the 3rd hotel we found a vacancy. It was a little more expensive thatn what we wanted to pay (about $7 a person) but we were just happy to find a room. Plus breakfast was included and we all enjoyed hot showeres where the water stayed hot thru the entire shower!
At dinner Aime shared with us her experience on the Inca Trail. She had to turn back on the 2nd day because she was incredibly ill and even passed out on the trail. Unfortunately she wasn't able to take alternative transport to Machu Picchu and missed it. I felt sorry for her and so greateful that I was able to make it!
That evening before going to sleep I noticed that my fingers were so swollen I couldn't remove my metal rings...
