Uros Floating Islands

Arriving late afternoon in Puno after a super quick border crossing into our final country of Peru we received one of our most warmest welcomes yet. A lady worker at Kusillo´s Hostel named Roxanne greeted us like we were old friends showing bucket loads of cheer and a huge smile to match. Within a minute of us being shown up to our cosy room she brought us in a tray of hot water and along with a cracking selection of tea- something that instantly earned her top brownie points. Our new country was already off to a lovely start.

Three cups fulls later and we headed out to type up the last few blogs of Bolivia and by the time we had finished early evening was setting in. Back at the hostel we had planned to quickly freshen up and set out to find some dinner when our host brought us in another tray of wonder with a hot water bottle for Laura thinking that we were ready for bed- it was only 8pm so we must have looked incredibly tired! We didn´t want to seem rude so snuggled up for an earlier than planned lights out quite satisfied with yet more tea.

To make up for our lack of supper last night the next morning we were given one of the best breakfasts in a long while, with fresh crispy bread, pancakes, juice, coffee and fried eggs. It certainly cheered up Laura who had had another rough night´s sleep with the snore monster, and to my defence I was pleased to finally hear from the mother of the household that it is because of the high altitudes that I am snarling dinosaur noises twice as loud than usual.

Seeing as we had four days here until we needed to leave for Arequipa to meet Toby (our first friend from back home to come and visit us) we spent our first full day in Puno in complete leisure strolling around the streets of the small port town. We bought our last postcards for home which tingled our insides with mixed emotions. As insanely excited as we are to finally return home and see friendly faces the actually reality of this mind blowing trip now ending feels somewhat devastating. For the meantime though we enjoyed just sitting back in our chairs under the blazing gold sunshine eating some delicious llama kebab on scewers drizzled in a red wine sauce (Laura obviously taking the non alpaca option).

Our second day in Puno was far more productive, as we got in a minivan with fourteen others and drove to the port where a boat would take us for a two day voyage around the different islands on Lake Titicaca. Within an hour we had docked at one of the astonishingly unique Uros floating islands inhabited by one of the five families that live there. Almost everything from the Uros people´s homes, puma-headed rafts and spongy floor is made from the totora reeds which sprout up in the waters of the lake. The inside stem of the reed is also used as a source of food, which when eaten helps clean their teeth at the same time- who needs toothpaste! We had a mildly tasty chomp on one whilst our guide demonstrated to us how the artificial islands are built from scratch. We were then shown around the small vicinity of the floating village, looking at the trout filled farm and into the tiny insides of the homes where Laura was chosen to dress up in typical bright pink and luminous green Uros clothing, making her look a bit like a giant lollipop.

There was a slight pressure to buy the locals handmade crafts and after La Paz we really weren´t in a position to spend any more money. We made up for not purchasing anything by paying for a relaxing puma boat taxi ride over to the other fascinating family homes. As we set off, the women on the island all lined up and bid us farewell by cheerfully clapping and singing local traditional songs (and an amusing version of ´row, row, row the boat!´)

About 10 minutes later and we reached our second island that had tame pet flamingoes walking around cheeky grinning teenage girls sat in a circle cooking up something that smelt incredible. They seemed more than happy for me to take a picture of them, although the cutest girl here (all of about 5 years old) was far more shy, and spent her time running away from the camera behind the different reed huts. Despite the high surge of tourists sailing in by the boat load here, with the Uros people naturally taking full advantage attempting to make some extra money by selling their embroidered clothing and crafts, this really was one of the most truly remarkable places we´ve visited.

We contined our journey at a slow boat ride pace over Titicaca to Isla Amantani where we would spend the night with one of the islanders. Once we had arrived we were greeted by a group of identically dressed women wearing black vales and christmas green coloured dresses. We were divided into pairs and sent off with our new mums to their different homes spread across the island. Our family consisted of a friendly cowboy hatted dad, two gorgeous little girls who looked like they had been playing in the mud all day, and their grandma, who spent the afternoon sat infront of the garden crops brushing her long grey hair away from her face that surely could have told a thousand stories.

At 3pm we still hadn´t eaten lunch, and when mumsy said that it would still be an hour off, Laura and I went to speed things up by helping to prepare the food. I´m not sure if Laura´s potato peeling skills using an old knife instead of an efficiant English peeler actually helped out that much but it was nice to make an effort. It felt so special though, as we sat in their minature stone kitchen with mum giving us big smiles, dad smoking out the entire room building a fire to cook upon and the two girls happily running around outside gathering more wood- it was a surreal treasured moment that will stick with me for a long time to come.

For lunch we were also joined by two other guests staying there, one swiss girl and an old guy with a big character from Berlin (we´re bad at remembering names). We finally all got to eat, though the mountain full of dry rice, dry boiled potato and fried cheese was a bit of an anticlimax.

The four of us were then taken by mum to meet up with the rest of our tour group in order to trek up one of the two high green terraced hills which overlook Amantani. After a slightly breathless one hour climb up narrow streets through farms and stone archways we made it to the top of the hill named pachamama- a beautiful setting, graced with ruins from the Tiahuanaco culture. We stayed there and watched a stunning sunset fall over the sparkling waters of Titicaca before returning back to our family homes.

For the evenings activities we were given a choice to either go to bed or dance at a nearby fiesta. All of us were totally nackered but didn´t want to miss out on anything special, and with the party only lasting one hour we decided to get ready. Our jeans and T-shirt approach weren´t deemed suitable by the family, so we were taken back up to our rooms where our German friend and I were dressed in alpaca hats and snazzy ponchos, but Laura and swiss amiga had to wear layers of thick traditional colourful clothing which must have given them an extra stone in weight. The heavy black vale must have weighed a few pounds alone and it wasn´t the most attractive or comfortable item for a night out dancing. With no disrespect to the islanders, we all looked and felt ridiculous, and all prayed that the other families had dressed up their guests the same or we were in for an embarrasing night.

We arrived to a very dim lit unparty like hall around 90% full of tourists (thankfully adorned in similar clothing) and 10% locals who looked bored to death with having to put on this event on every single night of the week. Even though the evening felt incredibly cringeworthy it didn´t stop us from having a bit of fun taking our mum´s hand for a dance to the pan pipe, charango folkcore melodies onstage. I´m not sure if you could have called it dancing though as all we seemed to do was hold hands and throw eachothers arms back and forth whilst spinning around in a circle clockwise for about five minutes and then anticlockwise for another. With our thick layers on it was some sweaty hard work and we were relieved everytime the band stopped for two minutes. To be really honest we were even more relieved when the fiesta ended so we could all go to sleep. Perhaps if the locals put this evening on once every month instead of every night, painted the grey walls and instaled some light bulbs, then maybe a sense of excitement and atmosphere might arise once in a while- still, it was worth a go!

After some dry pancakes with a stingy pot of jam for breakfast we packed up and said goodbye to the family and got back onboard our boat which then took us over to the island of Taquile. We spent a couple of hours hiking over the plump hills over towards the main plaza where we could view and buy the islanders intricate woven clothes in the textile factory. Our guide explained to us the unique weaving techniques which go back to the Inca, Pukara and Colla civilizations and how that every man here must wear a chullo, a knitted hat with an earflap, in which the colour of it represents if they are single, married or a leader on the island.

Our set lunch of Titicaca trout and chips certainly satisfied my ever present hunger, although Laura´s constantly given overly eggy omellette vege dish is starting to really do her head in. After food we trekked down over 500 knee jarring uneven steps back to the port and set off for our long return journey to the mainland.

By the time we had returned to our warm pad in Puno and slurped down a welcoming tea we were shattered, so sleep naturally followed.

For our last day we took a rather pensioner filled minibus day out to see the extraordinary ruined chullpas of Sillustani. Set high on a plateau surrounded by the shimmering Lake Umayo are the remains of huge funerary towers built by the Colla people who are buried in the fetal position within. These dramatic stone blocks adorned with carvings of snakes and pumas reach up to 12m high and certainly impressed us beyond our expectations. Although engulfed by wrinklies, the afternoon out was well worth it- the amazing scenery was capped with an impressive sky and the ruins really captured our imagination. The short day trip made for a pleasant and interesting end to our enjoyable time in Puno and it was probably the last bit of culture we would take in for the next seven days.

We bid a very fond farewell to our fantastically welcoming and warm hosts at Kusillo´s. We were so grateful for their mothering like kindness that we bought them a box of chocolate biscuits as a thank you- as we handed it over they handed us some chocolate bars to keep us satisfied on the bus trip ahead and made us promise that we would come back with three children. We were sad to say goodbye but were starting to get tingles- a certain Toby Woodfine arrives later for a guranteed week of trouble and mischief in Arequipa.