Flights to and from Uyuni pretty much only come in the “very early” variety, so very early we flew out, back to La Paz. We had a brief stay there, just long enough to get lunch, before we took a bus trip west of the city, to the town of Copacabana, at Lake Titicaca.

The fun thing about this bus trip is that, about halfway there, you have to get out and cross a small portion of the lake by ferry before continuing the rest of the way to town. The people get onto these small little boats that carry maybe 20 people, and get tossed mightily by the waves and wakes. Meanwhile, the bus rides its own little bus-sized ferry across by itself, and we’re reunited on the other side.

We were there on a Sunday, and it was pretty busy, so it was crazy seeing all these tiny boats plying their way back and forth across this channel. It was also an achingly beautiful day, with so much blue and green; just stunning.

Copacabana

After a very, very curvy second half of the trip we arrived in the little town of Copacabana. You get dropped off the bus in the main area of town and it’s very Gringo. When did we leave Bolivia?  Copacabana is very Gringo because a lot of European and American travelers pass through there on their way between La Paz and Cusco, Peru. Most don’t really stay here, they just change buses–because we’re talking about people who bus their way between La Paz and Cusco. It’s 12 hours total between the two cities. The buses available for the route look really nice, and it is super cheap. But it’s also TWELVE HOURS.

We are not these people. We had a flight to Cusco out of La Paz booked already. See you all there.

Copacabana is weird, also, because when you look down the main street, down the hill to the shore, it looks and feels very much like you’re in a seaside town. Except, in reality you’re at 12,000 feet.

We’d heard there was a square nearby where you go to catch local cabs. However, what we soon figured out was that we went to a different square where all the cabs were to take you outside the city. We didn’t figure that out, though, until we’d walked all the way to the hotel with Franz and Helga.

“It’s only about a mile, it shouldn’t be a big deal.” HAHAHAHA! But, little fool, did you know it was up a massive hill the whole way? Well you do now!

Yeah it wasn’t a great walk. But we got to the hostel, and it was adorable. The owner was a very kind, soft-spoken man who quickly got us checked into our room. But the room, oh boy was it cold. Turns out, it gets quite cold at Titicaca in the evenings, and we did not have heat.

What we did have, though, was a beautiful, perfect little patio that was private to our room. It had beautiful views of the lake, and had two hammocks. You’ll be surprised to find out we used that patio a lot. It was the perfect use of mornings when we were cold and didn’t feel like walking into town, but did very much feel like sitting in the sun and reading.

There’s Bolivia!

From the main bus drop off, if you go one way (toward the lake), you go down “Gringo Alley”, the main street with mediocre cafes and restaurants, and expensive cocktails, where all those European and American travelers hang out to pass the time before their bus leaves. If you go the other way, though, toward the Plaza 2 de febrero you only have to go about a block before you come across the bustling shop fronts and narrow streets we were more used to from La Paz and Sucre, full of Bolivians working and living. This is the side of town to spend your time.

Once at plaza 2 de febrero, you have, to one side, the Basilica de la Virgen de la Candelaria; and to the other side, down a block, the mercado. It’s lunchtime; let’s go to the mercado!

We actually came here on two different days, as we were in search of buñuelos, fried breads similar to funnel cake in texture, and drizzled in syrup. The first time through, though, the buñuelo stands were closed, so we had to be satisfied with just lunch. Like every other lunch we’ve had from city markets, it was fantastic and cost pennies.

The second day through we did get buñuelos, and it was worth the wait! Along with it, we also had a purple maize based drink called Api, which is hot and spiced and purple and so sort of comes across as a thicker glühwein. It’s delicious, and it plus buñuelo equals an excellent snack.

Alright, we’ve had lunch and a snack so let’s head back to that basilica. This place is kind of a big deal in Bolivia, and has long been an important objective for pilgrimages. One fairly common custom in Bolivia is to take any new car (brand new, or used but new to the owner) to Copacabana for its first trip, to be blessed at the Basilica. This blessing by priests before the Virgen de Copacabana is thought to promote long life and safe journeys, and so any new car’s first trip must be here. Indeed, we saw some cars being blessed while we were there, though weirdly on the day we were there, there were only taxis.

The Basilica is beautiful outside, stark white and of Moorish design inspiration. Inside, along with a beautiful cathedral, is the Dark Virgin–a vision of Mary carved into dark wood, supposedly from the 1500s.

My Wife is a Haggler

Erika likes to haggle, and this is something I do not share with her. I much prefer to go into a transaction with my idea of a fair price, be told the price, and if they match up I go with it and if not I walk away. Or, I just take it, if I don’t feel like the difference is enough to fight over. I don’t have a lot of stomach for going back and forth in a haggle. And I have even less of one when the exchange rate means that we’re arguing over $1 USD or two.

Erika is not bothered by the difference being just a dollar or two. It’s the principle, she says. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of ripping me off, she says. So okay, she’s not wrong; still, I just really can’t do it for coins.

Now, upfront I’ll say, we never really had any problems in South America. Pretty much uniformly, we felt taxis and store owners offered us fair deals to start with. But this one dude in Copacabana definitely did not.

Our hostel told us local taxis in town should be about 10 Bolivianos to get to the hostel. And, indeed, the first night we took one, the driver charged 10 and we thought that was just great. The second night, we walk to the square looking for a taxi, walk most of the way around the square, and finally find one.

“Quince,” he said.

“Quince!?” Erika argued that just the previous night, it was only 10; 15 was too much.

“Esta noche, es quince,” he said, with a smirk that told me that we all knew what was going on.

This was obviously shitty, and obviously a raw deal. But… the exchange rate was 7 Boliviano to the dollar. So we’re arguing over like 70 cents here. This is one of those situations where I just don’t have the energy for an argument; fine, you can have the 70 cents, just get me to my hotel.

Erika does have the energy, however; and, again, it’s the principle! So she continued to push for ten.

“Es sólo cinco Boliviano,” the driver said, implying cinco wasn’t so much to us. I could say the same to you buddy.

Erika wouldn’t have it, and so we walked. Like, literally, walked away and walked back to our hotel. It was only quince minutes or so, but it was quite dark and very quiet. It almost certainly wasn’t unsafe at all, but it sure felt isolated out. We kept joking during the walk that we going to get robbed and have all of our Bolivianos stolen, but at least we didn’t give 70 cents to that taxi driver!

Don’t tell her this, but that sort of fight and indignation is something I love very much about my wife. Even if it does get us robbed in Copacabana over 70 cents.

Come For the Views

Nestled amongst hills and pressed against the shores of the lake, with brilliant high-altitude blue skies, Copacabana offers pretty routinely spectacular views, as you can no doubt tell from the pictures already. Thinking we had the energy one day, we set out to get even more spectacular views by climbing the tall Cerro El Calvario on the north side of town.

Cerro El Calvario also figures prominently into Copacabana’s stature as a pilgrimage destination, as there are monuments representing the 14 stations of the cross as you climb your way up. We, however, were intending to hike up it for the views.

And we failed. Pretty miserably! Turns out, we did not have the energy for it. So we got a couple pictures halfway up, and hey, we got to see some alpaca on our way back down!

A Friend Wanders into Town

While we were in La Paz, one morning Erika got a frantic message from a friend, Airi:

“Oh my god I’m going to be in La Paz next week! Will you still be there?!”

We wouldn’t, at the time, and said we were going to be in Copacabana. Airi said that she, too, was going to be in Copacabana, and we’d overlap by a day. What the hell! In Copacabana, Bolivia of all places!

We met up with her on Gringo Alley and got drinks with her. It was surreal meeting up in such a last-minute fashion with someone in such a place, and I had to continue to remind myself, we’re in Bolivia!

(Granted, difficult to do since everyone in the bar were white foreigners)

Anyway, it was fantastic to run into a friend on the road, and Erika and I were so happy it worked out! We spent a little time catching up with Airi, took the requisite pictures, and wished her well on her few more days in Bolivia.

And New Friends Too

One afternoon when we were enjoying the sun and reading on our patio–naturally–a woman from the neighboring room struck up a conversation with us. We talked about travel, and this and that, and eventually it came out that she and her husband were in the middle of a Honeyyear (her term, but we’re stealing it) the same as us. It also came out that they were from Boston, same as Erika.

What the hell! In Copacabana, Bolivia of all places!

We traded future travel plans, as well as contact information. It looked like there was a good chance we’d overlap again in either Cusco, Peru or Machu Picchu, and we hoped to see them again there.

What’s Next?

We’d had enough of the cold shores of Titicaca, and it was time to move on. We were taking the bus back to La Paz, where we’d spend a few more days–acclimated to the altitude, this time–before reaching the end of our adventures in Bolivia. As always, thanks for coming by our blog! And don’t let Airi be the last person we see on the road: we’ll see you out there!