Free Brekkie before the Island of the sun!



What a lovely welcome from the locals.... (quick! check mum's suitcase for the little one)


From Isla Del Sol, in this magical lake, was born the Inca race. Legend has that Manco Kapac and Maama Occllo, the children of Viracocha, the creator of God, were born from Titicaca. Later they founded Cusco and the Inca nation. And we were looking foward to spending the night on that very island.

After a breakfast fit for 8 kings, we took a small boat and 45 minutes later, we arrived at the foot of the island. Altitude and about 72000 steps later( sacred steps though!!!!!!!!) a small rest at the birthplace of the holy children, we began the hunt for our accomodation. Now the island is reported to have no electricity, so when we were looking at small huts with no toilets nor even bed sheets I wondered if the warning given to Mum and John had actually sunk in? Something told me that enough was enough and they had had it with playing at backpackers. There was one place that claimed luxery. After seeing it, barginning, ( it was 23 times our usual budget) John decided that he was going to treat us. It was spectacular. Pure heaven. Pure bliss. Imagine everything you could want in a hotel room, on a sacred island in Bolivia, it was all there, open fire, hot tea on demand, sky lights for the most amazing view of the most star lit night we have EVER seen. Oh, and boiling water for our bottles.... even sheep and Llamas in the garden peering in through our bedroom windows.

Shirley Hanton... in Bolivia.



We managed to see a lot of the island that day. The ruins of Pilcocania, ( which Jez will remember because he literally knocked himself out in the dark passages with no torch) Fuente Del Inca, a pure spring and the most incredible sunsets. Every where there were Llamas and colourfully, simply dressed locals adding to the tranquility and otherworldiness. The only other tourists we saw on our walk were rambling the island lost, having been dropped off by a local fisherman, hoping to make it to some kind of accomodation before night fall. Oh and we did see a few other weary travellers on our way........................................

Little Donkey with his heavy load...you can make it.



Our accomodation seemed to be the only place that did have electricity. Finding somewhere to eat was a chore in the dark but, when we did, we landed a feast. Fresh sea food, steaks, wine, fresh local vegetables..the outside tiolet overlooking the water ( there was no door) What more could we want!

Bright and early the next morning, served by a local middle aged woman, feeling very special to be left in charge of the propery and thus the mobile phone, fed us up and we were on our way. We were not so happy to be moving on this time, as tomorrow would be the last day together. The worry of the riots had not left us, just been burried. Surely the bus would be leaving. Surely Mum and John would catch their plane!

I'm going to miss my mum.