Day 23 (4/16)

Today was our day for lakes. Mid-day we took time to detour around a series of small lakes aptly named Laguna Lagunillas (literally, ‘lake little lakes’) and by the end of the day we’d found ourselves at an incredibly beautiful albergue (guest house) on the shore of a very big lake…Lake Titicaca.

The morning started in Arequipa, where we had spent the night and which we had found to be a really attractive city. It is heavily influenced by its’ Spanish Colonial heritage and the corresponding atmosphere is both authentic and charming. We found a very nice place to stay and arrived early enough in the day that we had a few hours to wander around the center of town before having an outstanding meal. If you ever plan to visit Peru, put Arequipa on your itinerary. 

The early part of our ride was spent fighting traffic as we exited the city and made our way back up to the 15,000 foot plateau that we’d descended from the day before. Once back at altitude, we proceeded to make time (at 50-60 mph) on a fairly major highway due east towards Lake Titicaca, which was our destination for the day. A few hours into the ride, we found the aforementioned detour from the main road around the Laguna Lagunillas. In addition to taking in the scenic landscape, we also observed first hand the trout farming business in this part of Peru. Over the course of the hour and a half it took us to circumnavigate the series of small lakes, we must have seen 500 or more trout ‘stations’/enclosures, each of which can host anywhere from 5,000 to 50,000 trout depending on the depth of the water. According to one of the locals that Claudio engaged, it takes 6 months to ‘grow’ the trout to 1/2-3/4 of a pound, which adds up to a lot of trout and makes for quite an enterprise. Next week when I have my trout dinner in Cusco, I’ll know exactly it came from. 

We returned to the main road at the town of Santa Lucia and strange as it may sound I found myself in familiar surroundings. As some of you are aware, I visited Peru 40 years ago and one of the more memorable episodes of that trip was the train ride I took from Arequipa to Puno (the main Peruvian City on Lake Titicaca). As it turns out, the road we were on today runs directly parallel to that train route. It hadn’t really struck me earlier in the day, but the stretch after Santa Lucia brought back very strong memories of that trip 40 years earlier. I remembered the broad river valley with the train tracks running parallel to the river, surrounded by lush farm fields, low hills on either side with views of snow capped peaks in the distance in the late afternoon light. If you didn’t know differently you’d think you were at sea level, but here you are at 15,000 feet headed towards the famed Altiplano region and the highest navigable lake in the world. When I was here 40 years ago I remember thinking someday I’d like to return. Little did I know that I’d do so, albeit 40 years later.

The remainder of the ride carried us across a section of the Altiplano through the really ugly city of Juliaca and then southward towards a peninsula that juts out into the lake. Past Juliaca, the scenery restored, we made our way along the shore of the peninsula to the town of Llachon (Lia-chon). I’d read that there were some amazing places to stay, but as we entered the town square, it didn’t look like much. However in one corner of the square there was a small sign for “Albergue Felix” with an arrow pointing right. We picked up a narrow dirt road road that we followed for another couple of miles above the shoreline with no further sign. We were getting ready to give up when finally a sign appeared. Our persistence paid off big time as we were greeted by Felix and got a room with an incredible view overlooking the water. Mission accomplished.

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From Claudio

Reverence 

During the rest day in Cotahuasi I visited the local school. I was welcomed in the 5th grade; after the initial shyness, students asked me many questions, each closer to my life. They were working on “Family costumes and traditions,” so I asked them to share their writings. “At home we all fast on Saturdays,” said one boy. “In my home we all do the weekly laundry on Sunday,” said a girl. “Everyday after school my brother and I go to the field and help out until sunset.” “We wake up at 6:00 to open our hardware store.” “We light candles for our virgen every day.” “We…” A boy, whose eyes sparkled with curiosity asked “and what are your traditions?” I paused to gather the smiles and light in the room, then answered “we drink tea together every morning and sit around the table for dinner at night.” Silence. Afterwards we did some math, I told a story and then guided a drawing. There was a tremor within me when I left. I am still haunted by their humbleness, their reverence. 

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