'At the Copa, Copacabana....'

Yeah well not the same one, but whatever, I had that song stuck in my head pretty much the whole time I was there! And I was glad to actually get there really because my original bus (yep another bus story...) I´d booked crashed in the morning and so didn´t pick me up, and then apparently there were road blocks that meant no other buses were leaving until the afternoon. The one I did eventually take still didn´t go the usual route, and instead took us on several dusty backroads through many sleepy and traditional farming communities (it still amazes me that the women are out ploughing paddocks dressed in long skirts and sandals with their donkeys ).

The main attraction in Copacabana, other than the highest-navigable-lake-in-the-world thing, is the Isla De Sol, where apparently the Inca creation legend began. So one loooooong and cold (well it might not´ve been that long really...) ferry ride later I arrived at the island to see some ruins and take a 3 hour-ish walk from North to South to take it in the lovely views. Apart from feeling a little exploited by the numerous entry fees (even if they are pittance each) and two cheeky little girls wanting payment for photos, the actual walk was beautiful in the streaming sun and it was great to see some water again having been stuck in deserts for a while. The size of the lake made you feel like you could´ve been at the sea, it was very difficult to see the mountains on the other side in the morning, until the clouds lifted in the afternoon and the snow-capped peaks emerged. At one point though, I totally forgot where I was as the path took me through a grove of Eucalypts. Apparently old zoological habits die hard and I shook my head as I realised I´d been gazing into the treetops briefly in search of koalas!!!

My favourite thing in Copacabana though was stumbling across the local afternoon tea hangout. A cafe called ¨2 de Febrero¨ (all the cafes, streets etc have the same names pretty much: important historical dates, famous leaders or cities around the country), which was a big room lined around the edges with little stalls where women stood behind stacks of mugs stirring big pots of boiling milk, water and api, a sweet purple drink made with corn, cinnamon, cloves, lemon and sugar. The place was packed and I had to circle several times before finding an empty table to order a cafe con leche to warm up (it gets pretty freezing at night at these heights despite the warm sunny days!). As I was sitting there I was joined by two other families and found myself squeezed at the end of the table unable to get out until they too had finished their drinks and Bolivia style doughnuts smothered in caramel sauce (surprisingly good!). As I was working out my Spanish to ask the two teenage girls what exactly the api they were drinking is made of, I heard through the giggles that they were obviously working out their English to talk to me. So when I caught them say ¨where are you from?¨I replied entiendo (I understand) with a smile. And so with a bit of Spanglish I had a nice little chat with the girls before going on my way to dinner with a lovely couple from Manchester who I´d met on the boat.

And that, sadly, was my last stop in Bolivia. Next day I was off to Peru to see the other side of Titicaca and start the journey to Inca central - Cuzco.