A Titicaca interlude

Our big coach went on one of these barges!

Straddling the border between Bolivia and Peru, Lake Titicaca makes a majestical highest-large-body-of-water in the world. Approaching the lake-side, Virgin-worshipping town of Copacabana from Bolivia, we had to cross a small sliver of lake on a barge (us on one, our Diana Tours bus on another).

Our first stop in Copacabana was the Basilica, where pilgrims flock every day for blessings in their garlanded cars and minibuses. Unfortunately the famous black madonna's antechapel was undergoing renovations so we weren't able to see her, but the church was impressively festooned with flowers, silver and a 'ceremonial' virgin de Copacabana. The original, dark-skinned sculpture is very old, precious and fragile (and surprisingly small).

The Basilica's serene courtyard

Tipped off by our French friend on the La Paz walking tour, we ate fresh lake fish and omelette at small semi-temporary tent-kitchen-restaurants on the beach. Though perhaps not the culinary epiphany it was made out to be, the meal set us up for a loooong, crowded ferry ride from Copacabana to the Isla del Sol in the middle of the lake.

Nothing could have prepared us for the looooooooong walk up to the ridgeline of the island, where our hotel (partially still being built) perched with views both ways across the lake. After a shower and rest, we finally experienced the magical Isla with a walk up to the highest point, to watch the sunset.

For dinner we took our chances on a small, empty, family-run restaurant, which produced impressive spag bol and quinoa soup (an Andean fave).

Sunrise over the Andes and Isla del Luna

I was up at 5.55am to see the sun rise over the Andes from our terrace (not quite through my toes, as enjoyed by Mum and Dad in the great 2003 South America Tour). A few hours and a substantial breakfast later we were path-finding south to the well-preserved Inca waystation for pilgrims. At the north end of the island, the temples and ceremonial sites the pilgirms were heading for lay dotted on our map.

The south end of the island is tantalisingly close to the mainland (but not Copacabana)

On the way back north we sighed (well I did) at the snow-capped Andes in the distance, and failed to capture them sufficiently beautifully on camera (see left). Heading along the ridgeline beyond our hostel, we were stopped firmly by a local who told us we couldn't go any further - no tourists allowed. No boats were visiting the north either. Thus thwarted, we plodded back to make enquiries. There is an ongoing conflict between the north and south halves of the island, likely over uneven tourism revenue and associated prosperity. The north has been completely out of bounds to tourists since April 2017; it's unclear if that is self-imposed or the southerners controlling the boats.


Now with 4 hours to kill, we wended our way back down to the harbour of Yumani via the three water springs (right) and original Inca steps, and established ourselves at the best table on the best terrace. Our long relaxed lunch involved pizza, chocolate pancakes, coffee, and a view of a touristy Inca reed boat with 'oarsmen' and a motor. And the Isla de Luna and Andes serene behind.

The 3pm boat finally pitched up, and we sat inside (but near the back for a quick exit if needed) and made progress with our books. Our final 1.5hrs in Bolivia were spent changing money, eating a hamburger (please remember we did eat local in Copacabana before, and on the Island) and boarding the Diana Tours bus for Puno, Peru. 

By bus, by bike, bye bye La Paz

We are back after a Christmas break, so a reminder of where we left off: winging our way back to La Paz from the Madidi jungle.

Tiwanaku beckoned

We had cunningly booked into a homestay in El Alto, the flatter, dodgier part of La Paz, ready for a speedy day trip to Tiwanaku - the sacred centre of a pre-Inca empire. After dinner at Pizza Gooooooal (a tiny sports bar) we bonded with fellow home-stayers, two French girls, over their home-made banana cake, our shop-bought chocolate and tips on visiting New Zealand.

Our relaxed banana milkshake breakfast was cut short by our host who insisted his wife took us to the Tiwanaku local bus on her way to work. This involved two collectivos and much squishing in, but we were soon out on the open road. 

First up, for background understanding, was the Tiwanaku Pottery Museum, which illustrated the civilisation's advanced craftsmanship and rituals, as well as their trading links with other parts of Bolivia and Peru. The delicately sculpted seahorse was the highlight.


Then we trotted round the Tiwanaku site itself. Due to pillaging, half reconstruction and poor archaelogical investigation over hundreds of years, not much is known about the functions or meaning of different parts. However, we saw: a slumped and excavated 7-terraced pyramid, with cross-section showing how it was constructed; what appears to be a miniature model of another, undiscovered, temple site; a sunken temple lined with stone heads or idols pillaged from other communities to show dominance; the main, raised sacred area with clay altar, sun gate (moved from original place) and monoliths; carvings of cats, crabs and tesselated creatures; water channels; a patio lined with sarcophogi; magnetic standing stones.

The sunken temple

Detail from the base of a monolith in the raised area

The biggest monolith is housed inside to protect it, after it was originally displayed in La Paz (there is a replica Tiwanaku sunken temple in the middle of a roundabout there). It is HUGE! But we weren't allowed to take any photos.

Back at the main road we waved down a minibus and trundled back to El Alto, then chose a minibus over the Azur Teleferico (cable car), which was repeatedly being hit by lightning in the mounting storm. By the time we got to the Amarillo Teleferico the storm had died down, so for all of 3 Bolivianos we took it over the edge of the La Paz bowl and down into the city. Refreshed by an Alexanders sundae and quesadilla we picked up our bags (thanks Camino Royal), booked biking at Barracuda, and checked into a new hostel. Dinner was delicious tacos and fresh juice at a painfully backpacker-y Mexican bar.

Teleferico selfie

After much debate we had decided to 'do' the 'Death Road' biking. Freewheeling down the World's Most Dangerous Road was last undertaken by Coventrys in 2003, when the road was still the main trade route between La Paz and Coroico, and trucks, minibuses and cars sidled past each other on the cliff's edge. Finally in 2006, a new, tarmac road was built on the other side of the valley, and now the old track is just for biking.

The steepest, sharpest corner

There were 10 of us plus two guides and one bus in the Barracuda Group 1. We zoomed down the first 22km, on tarmac, avoiding the crazy overtaking of oncoming vehicles. At the offshoot to the old road, several tour groups were gearing up, so we admired the valley quickly and juddered off down the rocky gravel. Soon an order was established - young no-fear crazies first, then us, then those less confident or more cautious. Unlike in 2003, there was space to admire the view without going over the edge, and the guides insisted on many stops to take epiiiic photos of us all.

Roger and I biking under a waterfall next to a memorial for one of the accidents

The corner that became a famous image of the road

As we descended the climate and vegetation completely changed. 33km down, we arrived in a little village, where there was a final 500m of tough uphill that separated the real bikers (me and Rog) from the rest. A welcome pool and beers greeted us, for maximum relaxation and socialising, and a big buffet. The other Barracuda group arrived 1.5hrs after us, having been plagued by crashes and punctures (and generally being slow).

The bus took us back up the new road, which still had some hairy hairpins and mad overtaking, but also safe views from above the clouds. The next morning we departed La Paz.

Welcome to the jungle

Amaszonas Airlines obviously hadn’t read the Rough Guide’s description of their flight.

“Unbeatable views of the Andes and rainforest as you descend to the Amazonian plain,” it said.

The pencil

Unfortunately we were greeted at our early morning flight by a very small plane nicknamed “the pencil” with dirty, almost opaque windows. Amaszonas had also neglected to read any airline regulations so we took off silently, ignorant as to what we should do in an emergency.

After 40 minutes we landed into the tropical heat and (relatively) thick air of Rurrenabaque. We met our guide (who had a real name but we know him as Jungleman – a self-assigned moniker) and were whisked through a bustling Sunday market to our boat, which motored us up the Beni to Mashaquipe jungle lodge, via an audience participation sugar cane-crushing demonstration.

Crushing sugarcane the traditional way

Leaf cutter ants

The lodge was lovely, and we soon saw our first fauna of the day (aside from wasps and spiders) in the form of some Spider Monkeys right next to the dining building. After the first of many substantial meals and a welcome siesta, our afternoon ‘Jungle Walk’ saw us explore what else the area had to offer. We learnt that the area – Madidi National Park – was named after a carnivorous ant, how to listen out for venomous snakes (first hand), and which plants and mushrooms we could eat if we wanted to hallucinate (we didn’t).  We also saw bright red orchids, a huge stick insect and a very small, very poisonous spider and learnt that if a disturbed spider scurries away it is not poisonous, but if it crawls slowly it probably is and is preparing to strike!

In the morning we were awoken by the howls of Howler Monkey, which sound like the opening up of a portal to the underworld. Once we’d freshened up (opting for the millipede in Toilet 1 over the spider in Toilet 3) and breakfasted we began the day’s walk, to a jungle camp where we’d spend the night.

Puma paw prints!

The walk included picturesque viewpoints over the Beni river, from which we could see white heron stalking the water's edge. We grazed on the plentiful fruit (under the strict instructions of Jungleman) including a juicy sugar-cane-like bamboo good for kids to chew if they have diahorrea. Huge bright blue butterflies that I'd only ever seen in books ambushed us then fluttered off ahead. In the lower land we saw a fresh Puma paw print! 

After setting up camp (a mattress on an open-sided platform under a mosquito net and wooden roof), we continued along the river to a high cliff viewpoint from which to see brightly coloured parrots. A gravestone nearby showed where someone had died trying to get good photos, so we kept our distance from the sheer drop.

We saw lots of pairs of red parrots swooping past, accompanied by “Photo! Photo!” from Jungleman. During the walk we also saw a toucan high up on a bare tree. Anteater burrows were pointed out, and at one point we saw the disappearing behind of a wild pig! By then we were so comfortable with the day-time jungle we weren’t too perturbed at becoming momentarily misplaced when Jungleman lost his “secret trail”.

We ascended another viewpoint later that afternoon to watch the sunset

Night, however, was entirely different. Our cook summoned us to see a tarantula in the dining hut and another bigger one was spotted right next to our sleeping platform. Knowing tarantulas to be pretty harmless, we still gamely set off on our “half hour” night-hike, only for until-then-jovial Jungleman to sternly warn us not to touch any foliage whatsoever, especially with our heads, since the most venomous spiders and insects would be on the march in hunt-mode. After this the evening descended into an hour-long torch-lit fight against the (mostly imaginary) horrors attempting to buzz, crawl or jump onto us, interspersed with pitch-black stops in the middle of the bush for us to “enjoy the stars” while we imagined what we would discover at our feet once our torch relit. Needless to say we did not spot the Puma of the paw prints, only a very dazzled nude-coloured frog and a nesting moorhen-looking bird.

Jumping monkey - almost the whole troop made the leap

Look at that mud!

We survived the night by sleeping surprisingly well, and in the morning headed to the river amongst a huge troop of swinging Cappuccino Monkeys (above). We also spotted a rarely seen Leoncita monkey with a fierce-looking black face. At the river, Jungleman swiftly made a log-raft with our inept help, and we set off down river. We soon proved more adept at steering (thanks to our punting experience), so Jungleman slept while we navigated some slightly bumpy rapids.

Back at the lodge we showered, lunched, and all too soon were on a boat back to Rurrenabaque and the pencil plane back to La Paz, a world away.

How to climb a 6088m (19,974ft) mountain

[Roger] Arriving into central La Paz is a little like driving over a cliff, but one in which the near-vertical drop hosts extensive housing. Once we'd done some much-needed washing in our Airbnb apartment, we set out to explore the city, with the help of a Red Cap walking tour.

Our two guides' sense of humour was as dry as the moistureless air. "Bolivians like dehydrating things", said the newest member of the Red Cap team as we wandered through a food market. 

We learnt about the (in)famous La Paz prison where inmates can buy themselves swanky apartments with their profits from cocaine refinement. We gawped at some dehydrated  llama fetuses in the witches market. We nodded sadly as our guides told us about Bolivia's troubled political history. We also had a shot of alcohol at the end, the perfect conclusion to a walking tour. 

The rest of the day was spent preparing for our climb of Huayna Potosí, which at 6088m (19,974 feet) is significantly higher than Everest base camp (5380m). 

View of Huayna Potosi, behind a roadside cemetery

We set off on our two-day adventure the next day (Thursday 9 November). Gridlocked La Paz traffic was our first challenge, but our able driver soon had us deposited at base camp (4700m), where our guide Estaban provided an Avocado, Cheese and Tomato Sandwich Lunch (ACTSL). 

Looking back down towards base camp from high camp

Refugio II with glacier and false summit behind

The trek to high camp (5200m) was arduous, as we trudged through increasingly thin air with all our usual 'tramping' (hiking) kit plus the equipment needed for the climb - crampons, ice axe, hefty boots, gaiters etc. At Refugio II (bunkroom + kitchen) we admired the glacial landscape before an early dinner of LOTS of pasta, cheese and tomato, prepared and served by Estaban. Together with our fellow aspiring mountaineers (Australians, Israelis and one German) we tried to get some sleep from 6-11.30pm.

[Dora] Midnight was breakfast time, then kit-up, distribute some immodium to  stomach-troubled mountaineers, and head out into the darkness. Unfortunately over the first section, rocky and steep, we were pursued by the three speedy Israelis, leading to an early sense of humour and oxygen failure from me. However the snow was close and crampon-strapping provided a good rest. Roped together (Estaban-Dora-Roger) we set off slowly up the glacier, three small pools of light in the darkness.

It's hard to describe the effort required just to walk slowly up a slope in such thin air. The darkness reduced my world to a small patch of snow in front of me, my own swaying shadow and the sound of Roger's motivational monologue behind me. As we inched higher it seemed to reduce further to simply a set of lungs and the sound of breaths, one by one. Three hours' trudge and I was forcing an in-out breath every tiny step, focused on maintaining the steady rhythm.

Estaban stopped us and briefly explained that if we wanted to return, now was the time. We hadn't even seen the dawn yet, so giving up was not an option. I took a Sorochi pill (coca, aspirin and caffeine) and we pushed onward. We discovered why it had been the time to turn back: a steep icy incline was next. We were hurried along and pulled up by Estaban, with erratic ice axe use and an un-negotiable rest at the top. 

A further three hours of shuffling took us up the upper glacier, across several small and one large crevasse, which we had to straddle then use the ice axe to haul ourselves up the other side. Finally, the dawn came and we could see another group just ahead of us - both big psychological boosts. At 6000m we paused: "treinte minutas" to the top!

The icy ridge and path just below the summit (photo taken on the way down)

The final push included a slim, icy ridge on whose side we perched precariously whilst others came down. We collapsed on the summit just before 6am as sunshine poked through the clouds. 6088m. And having just achieved "the hardest thing in the world" ... Roger asked me to marry him! He presented a beautiful NZ pounamu (greenstone) ring that he'd smuggled up taped to the inside of his sunglasses case! I carried it down, on my finger.

Just after the proposal, on the summit

The view from the summit, as the clouds cleared

Just off the summit, with others there behind us

Glacial scenery and crevasse on the way down

Elated, the way down was certainly easier, helped by the increasing oxygen. However, Estaban was keen to keep the speed on so we were down before the crevasses started melting in the sunshine. The ice ridge and ice wall tested our axe skills again, and we were incredibly relieved to reach Refugio II. Back in normal hiking boots and with snacks on board, we slithered down to base camp to a second Estaban ACTSL.

View from the La Paz hotel verandah

As an engagement treat Roger had booked us in to La Paz's fanciest hotel's penthouse apartment, which had huge comfy sofas and a steam room! Heaven. It took all of the next day to recover from the climb, and make all the happy phone calls and messages to family and friends. We also had a relaxed Mexican dinner with our backpacker friend Catherine, and the next night, delicious tender llama skewers at the hotel.

Time for the jungle!