Another early start today to pack brekkie in before catching our boat at 8:30 to Isla Del Sol. We fancied brekkie overlooking the lake, but the only restaurant that was open had a poor selection so we made our apologies and left. We headed back into town to a lovely restaurant where they had a great choice, even bacon ! By now our time was limited and with the waitress doubling as the chef progress on our food was slow, we feared we would miss our trip ! In the end we told the girl we had a tour to get to and she went into overdrive for us. I think this was instigated by Trevīs impression of us having to run to the boats. She proceeded to run around as if Trev had implied that that was what she, rather than us, should do. After all of this we managed to get to the boat on time. Onboard we got chatting to 3 American girls opposite and very soon we were underway. The boat hardly went at break neck speed though and we soon realised why it would take us 2 hours to get to the North end of the Island. After what seemed like an eternity we docked in a lovely little bay and hopped off the boat into a bit of bedlam. No-one seemed to know where to go to start the walk. The guys on the boat werenīt interested in helping us either. Eventually a local pointed us in the right direction. After a quick loo stop we had a whistle stop tour of the museum - which was pretty rubbish to say the least. Then it was off across the bay to begin the hot walk in the sun. We passed a few donkeys and thought of Sal and Stu ! The walk to begin was quite tough - being at altitude again made it harder work. The views of the bays and lake were superb though, even if the island was a little barren. We had a meander around some ruins at the northern most point and climbed up onto a ridge to get great views of the area. We then continued the walk to the Southern end of the Island along the ridge. The path went generally upwards, but was another of those walks with \"false ridges\". We stopped for lunch when we finally reached the top, crackers and jam ! As we were sitting there munching away an English chap told us it had taken him 3 hours to get there from the Southern end of the Island. This panicked us a bit as we had less than 3 hours now until our boat left ! We continued on our merry way though enjoying the sunshine. The end of the trail was about as clearly marked as the beginning. Finally though we found the right path and headed down to the boats. We were about an hour early in the end so sat and watched the hubbub going on around the boats. We also bumped into Lorenzo and Frederic, two guys on our Atacama trip, so had a good catch up with them. Then it was back onto the boat and back to Copacabana. We realised that the guys opposite us on the way back had also been in the desert with us but with a different tour operator. We had bumped into them on the first night, the Canadian guy was a whizz with magic tricks and we had sat and watched him do many. He was travelling with an Irish colleague, they were both in the medical profession working in Dubai. Her brother and one of her friends from Ireland were also travelling with them. It was St Patricks Day so they were hoping to find some Guinness for that evening. Our natters with them helped to make the return trip seem quicker. We said our farewells as we got off the boat remembering a top tip for a restaurant that night, La Orilla. As we headed back into town we bumped into Joyce and Oscar again and caught up with their adventures. After a brief natter we set off to book our bus trip to Puno and then to walk the 30 minute steep trail to the mirador that overlooks the lake and the town. We wanted to sit and watch the sunset from there. We made the mirador in plenty of time, despite a lot of puffing due to the thin air and my cold. Unfortunately it was a cloudy evening so the sunset was a bit obscurred, but it was great nonetheless. We made it back down before it got too dark returning to our hostel to pick up our laundry, so at last we could have clean trousers again, it was getting a bit nippy for shorts. We then strolled down to La Orilla where we bumped into Joyce and Oscar again as well as another lass who had been in the jungle with the other group we had joined for the Anaconda hunting - a very sociable evening. I chose sweet and sour pork to eat as I fancied some comfort food, but it wasnīt a patch on Mums ! Trev had peppered steak with baked potatoes that was very good. Then it was back up the hill to bed as we were exhausted and sun weary after our walks. The next day we had planned a lie in as our bus wasnīt until 1:30pm. However, we both woke early and after a lounge and a read, we cleaned our boots (filthy from the jungle), showered and packed before heading down into town for brunch. We managed to while away an hour or so here, once again bumping into Joyce and Oscar. We chatted about meeting in Cusco for beers if everything worked out on our travels. We then pottered off to look at the markets, take piccies of the cathedral and pop to a pharmacy to get something to relieve my cold with. Fortunately the guy at the pharmacy spoke good english and most of the drugs were from America so the descriptions and dosages were in English as well. I ended up with Sinutab equivalent, but the tablets were bright turquoise, so who knows what they would do for me ! It was then time to get onto the bus for the trip to Puno in Peru, which meant another border crossing. It was a short uneventful ride to the Bolivian border, where we had to get out of the bus, fill in a form and get it and our passport stamped. The guy liked my name, Camila (spelt slightly differently is a popular name here). Then we had to walk to the Peru side of the border through a nice archway for another stamp in the passport. We then had a couple of hours before arriving in Puno. We had been given a flyer for a reasonable hostel in Puno which included a free transfer from the bus station. We decided to take it and headed off to find it with Damian, a chap from the hostel. The taxi stopped by a road that was completely dug up and had aggregate piled all over it - it didnīt look too classy. But the hostel itself was clean and had its own bathroom, so we took it. Damian then told us he could arrange the trip to the floating islands and Isla Taquile for us and our bus to Cusco should we need it. We listened to what he had to say and managed to bargain him down on most of it. Given other prices we had, it seemed reasonable so we booked it for the following morning. We also booked the night bus to Cusco for that same evening, giving us more time in Cusco to arrange the Inca Trail trip and relax. After our wheeling and dealing we headed to the centre to get our digital piccies put on a CD and to find somewhere nice to eat. We found a lovely restaurant that had a live South American Band in it. The music was fab and Trev and I tried Alpaca steak which was superb. It was then back to the hostel to bed. During the night there was a cracking storm which started at midnight and went on until 4am - didnīt let us get much sleep sadly. The following day we were up and out to get the bus at 7am for our island trip. On arrival at the port we met our guide for the day Enrique, a very nice chap, very funny and liked to learn English. It seemed at first that we had managed to get on a tour of old duffers, but they all seemed game for a laugh and there was a young Australian couple and an Australian chap who were very friendly. The Oz couple were cycling from Ecuador to Santiago so we had a good natter with them. The Australian chap had married a Peruvian so gave us some good local tips. Once again the boat wasnīt very speedy but within 30 minutes we were approaching the floating islands. It was a great sight to see, even if it was a little strange. Our boat pulled up at a relatively small island to begin with and off we got. It felt like we had just stepped into these peoples living room, a bit uncomfortable to be honest. There were lots of locals sat next to their craft stalls, almost in some ways as if they were exhibits. The children there must have a very strange life as lots of odd looking people arrive by boat, take pictures of them and leave. Anyway, we were ushered into the primary school hut and proceeded to sit on tiny chairs. Here we learnt a lot of history of the islands and the Uros people and the government schemes to help these people. They now have solar panels for electricity and by next year may even have internet. We also learnt how the islands are made and tried some of the reeds that the people eat. It tasted a bit like leeks but without such a strong taste to it. These reeds help the Uros people to develop more red blood cells which enhances their breathing at altitude and makes their skin much darker, meaning they can withstand the sun more. After our chat we took some time to see the smoked fish that the islanders use to trade in the markets for rice, fruit etc. We then climbed the lookout tower to take some distant photos, we didnīt want to intrude on the locals. We bought a few postcards and \"paddington\" a local craft which is in the shape of a medicine man before boarding our boat again. I named the medicine man \"Paddington\" after Trev. On this trip when he sleeps on boats and planes, he has a habit of moving his mouth in the exact manner that Paddington Bear does when he eats his marmalade sandwiches, for those of you that have ever seen the animated version. (Trev - obviously I am delighted with this nickname and the fact that my wife has seen fit to make it public) The next stop was a larger floating island, which had a post office and everything. We saw the locals hauling a large clump of new reeds up next to the island, this was so that they could extend it. To make the reeds flat the locals go out onto them and trample them down before laying other reeds on top of them. It is a hazardous process and the locals often end up in the lake. This island also had a pond in the middle of it and a cormorant tied up next to it. Evidently the blood of the cormorant has great healing powers for those who were sick, so this one was on standby ! It was then time to get back onto the boat to weave our way out through the reed channels to Isla Taquile. This is a co-operative island and one with very set traditional dress. The co-operative part means that families produced goods to be sold in the markets. The price and number of that family is attached to the good. When it is sold, the money goes back to the family that produced it. Well at least some of it does, on occasions some goes to the mayor and senior officials. The hats that the locals wear are significant as well. For ladies large pompoms on their head blankets means that they are single, smaller ones meant you were married. For men, a white and red wool hat means single, whereas a solid red hat means you are married. The higher members of society wear either a colourful wooly hat with ear flaps or a black trillbee style hat. They often wear the colourful one underneath to keep warm. When we got to the island we set off on the 40 min steepish walk to the plaza at the top of the ridge in the main town. On the way up we saw lots of people herding goats, sheep and cows, it was very agriculturally based here. Sadly we also saw some children who looked very down in the mouth. We had been told to take fruit to give any children who begged, and on our way up we came across some. We slowed to get some fruit out and five children instantly crowded us. Bananas were the first fruit out which went down reasonably well. But when the apples came out they all cried \" Manzana Manzana \" and got very excited, clearly they were the things to have ! At the main square we had a look around the markets before going with the group to a local restaurant for a traditional lunch. We had a lovely soup and then some local fish which was also delicious. After lunch Enrique told us about the different hats and showed us a waist band that is made when a couple get married. It is black and white striped, the white part being made of wool, the black being the hair from the woman. It forms a protection for the man to stop him hurting himself when he lifts heavy loads. After lunch we walked the final part to the boats, down many steps. Then it was all aboard for our return trip. On the way back we had a good natter with the other travellers and Enrique. Initially we swapped travel stories and tips before teaching Enrique some rude sayings in English - at his request. He went on to tell us about his wedding in September. We asked if there was the similar tradition of taking 300 solles of fruit, bread and beer to his in-laws for 3 consecutive weeks like the people of Isla Taquile have to do before the bride says yes or no ! He will just have to do this once and he and his fiance are planning to pay for their wedding themselves. We finally got back to our hotel in Puno at 6:30ish so had an hour before our bus to Cusco. We grabbed a quick dinner of chicken and chips and waited for our transfer to the bus station. At the bus station we clambered into the rather claustrophobic downstairs compartment with our sleeping bags at the ready for a cold night on the bus. Trev and I were across the aisle from one another so couldnīt share tunes on this trip. Trev read and finished his book, but it was too bouncy for me to do the same, so I popped into my sleeping bag, put my tunes on and slept. It seemed like the bus was forever stopping - which kept waking both Trev and I up. At one of the stops we awoke to find police with fluorescent orange vests and flashlights stooping about near our bags - not the most pleasant of ways to wake up to. We had no idea what they were searching for, but later found out that they were after contraband goods being brought in cheap from Bolivia and being sold for more in Peru. We saw the police get off the bus with a bag, so assumed they had found something. It then took an eternity before we got under way again. The bus driver must have put his foot down though, because despite the delay we arrived in Cusco at 4am on schedule. We were allowed to stay on the bus until 6am. Fortunately Trev and I managed to grab some more sleep before heading out into the dawn. We were hassled in the bus station by people trying to get us to stay at their hostel. In the end we got a taxi to the Plaza De Armas and strolled around to find a good hostel close to the centre. We chose Sumac Wasi in the end, a hostel set in an old style house with a private bathroom as by now Trev and my guts were not that great !