It was not until boarding the bus to Puno at 7 am, after 1 hour of sleep, that we were informed that this was no ordinary bus trip. Forget the simple, direct 5 hour route... instead try the 10 hour, stop at 6 different locations, all day extravaganza! But despite the aching body and blurred vision, it was actually quite fun.
We strolled into Puno, did the typical new city exploration, and were up the next morning bright and early to take a boat out onto the lakes of Titicaca (the worlds highest navegable lake) to see the Floating Island People... yea, I know! It turns out that hundreds of years ago a whole tribe of people, in an attempt to escape the conquering Incas, took to living on boats made out of reeds with little huts built on them. A mere 100 years later, they found that the special roots of these reeds could float, and when cut into 70 to 100 2x2 foot squares and lashed together, they formed man made floating islands. Cover these with a fresh 3 foot deep floor of fresh reeds rotated every 40 days and you have yourself your own mini continent! Unfortunately for these tribes, tourism is all too interested in their unique little Edens, and it wont be long until their way of life as we know it vanishes.
After our half day adventure, we caught a cab straight to the bus station to catch our bus across the border to Bolivia and their version of the COPACABANA! For those who don't follow international politics, yet again Bush has managed to piss off another nation and as such the Bolivians are charging Americans $135 a person to even cross the border. This, combined with the internal civil unrest, caused me to make a split decision. At the foot of the bus, I decided my path did not lie through Bolivia. I spoke briefly to the agent who had brought us and decided then and there to forego my ticket and buy an overnight bus to Tacna, the southernmost city on the border of Peru and Chile. I spent the rest of the day hanging out in an internet cafe/travel agency, and set out at 8 pm that night.
The next morning, bleary eyed and confused, I arrived in Tacna to a barrage of people offering to take me over the border. Not sure how to proceed, I decided I would begin the 1h 30 min trek across to the Chilean town of Arica and figure things out there. After a few discussions and a few customs agents, I was standing in Chile at 9:30 am. I promptly asked for the most logical route to Santiago and found out that it is a PALTRY 28 hour bus ride down the beautiful Chilean coast. The best bus, a seat that reclined so far back they called it semi bed, didnt leave until 6 pm... and so once again I set out to see if I could kill a whole day in a city I knew nothing about. Finally, I boarded the bus, began the longest single land commute I have ever engaged in, and a full 1 day and 4 hours later I pulled into Santiago, Chile at 10 pm at night.
The trip was a mixed sweet and sour - on the one hand, I started to come down with a sore throat so I was really irritated. On the other, it did make me immensely tired so sleeping was no problem. Upon arrival, taking the advice of my ever faithful Lonely Planet, I set out on a 20 minute stroll to find myself a hostal. My hopes and dreams of a private bedroom with heated showers to ease my sick body vanished when I came upon a huge, victorian house renovated backpacker style and full of travelers. I threw myself down on my bed in the 8 bed dorm room, looked over and saw an English boy who had just checked in as well. Conversation sparked up, we decided to grab a bite and a drink, and I had a travel companion for the next 4 days... but once again thats another tale.
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