Friday 6th May:

Ivar Topics:
Education: parents in class, sex education, reading books, wife's parents, wife in Sweden, high divorce rate (67%), the influence of the Aymara and President Eva Morales, lithium & Samsung, football in Bolivia, the disabled protest, dried llama foetus, 1,000 metres valley, rich at bottom, poor at top, landslides and insurance and evacuation,

This morning a city tour with a difference, no churches. Our first stop is even further down to the bottom of the valley, in fact the valley is over 1,000 metres from top to bottom, not the 500 metres we thought yesterday. The bottom of course has a better climate and has spawned desirable housing complete with gardens and occupied by the richer inhabitants of La Paz. Ivar explains that the social strata of LaPaz can be determined by the height at which you live in the valley.

The higher you live, the poorer you are likely to be, because the cost of the land is that much less, and the reason the lands costs less is the risk of landslides. Originally the valley was covered in glaciers which over the millennia reduced at the end of the ice age. This has left areas of the valley at risk of landslides after the rains of the wet season. The city has engineers that monitor the situation in high risk areas and if necessary issue warnings, and the notification to evacuate, giving people just two weeks to remove all their belongings, and then leave themselves.

If the property is lost then the owner can claim compensation, as long as he can produce plans that have the official stamp of approval from the city surveyors department.

The fist stop is at an area called the Valley of the Moon, and where the erosion of the glacial residue is at its peak, leaving a series of stalagmites that are gradually being eroded, and in around 100 years will all be gone; they look like a miniature Bryce Canyon.

Our second stop is another wonderful city viewpoint, and overlooking the national soccer stadium. Ivar has been a semi professional footballer, and is generally unimpressed with Bolivian football; they need to be a team, not Lionel Messi and then others he complains.

A ride through the market area of the city completes the tour, and we walk back to the hotel as the disabled protest has now closed the road in front. There are a small but vocal group of disabled people plus their careers blocking this main road. They are campaigning for a state pension, or what we might call disability benefit. Knowledgeable as ever Ivar explains that it's simply unaffordable at £315M per annum, so where this might go is unclear.

Later in the afternoon we can see the chaos their protest is causing from the hotel terrace and I take some pictures, again impressed with the zoom capability of the Panasonic. Lunch is taken at a small restaurant around the corner from the hotel, and we also book for an evening meal at the top of the hotel across the road.

We pop round the corner for a coffee and across the Hotel Presidente, where Ivar has recommended the penthouse restaurant and book a table for the evening. When we go out in the evening the streets are heaving and Bolivians do not understand the concept of "give way", it's everyone for themselves, whether it's the road, or on the pavement.

The meal is very average, but the views of La Paz lit up at night surrounding the place are spectacular. The meal turns out to be cheaper than we think as a starter and a dessert are included in the price of the main course, just a shame we hadn't understood that before having a meagre starter.

Thursday 5th May:

We actually bump into some English folk at breakfast, but they had not stayed at the hotel, just dropped in having started the day in La Paz. Two more museums visited, one about the history of the region and the other about Thor Heyrdahl and his Ra II expedition in 1970? He had been trying to prove a connection between the Egyptian people and those of South America; he got as far as Barbados, but we met the son of the man who had originally helped Thor with the skills needed to build a boat from reeds. He posed for us by a slightly smaller replica of Ra II and then took three quid off us for three postcards. He also looked remarkably the Kallawaya that blessed our trip the previous evening.

And so into La Paz with Ivar, who was turning out to be about the best guide we have had so far. An educated man from an educated, and politically active family. He had worked for Crillon for over 15 years and had at one time been their Operations Manager, but now enjoyed life as a guide.

He told about his wife, his second wife in fact, she had been the daughter of parents who had also been politically active during the dictatorship of the 80s. The parents had been captured, tortured, and eventually given amnesty to emigrate to Sweden. As a baby Ivar's wife had been smuggled to the airport as her parents left for Sweden, and somehow managed to get aboard their aircraft and leave with them. She was 16 when her parents decided the time was politically right to return to Bolivia, against their daughter's wishes. Her parents remain traumatised by the experience to this day.

Ivar's parents wished for him to have a political career, but instead her chose the media and then into tourism. He said that there was rarely a family meal when politics was not discussed around the table. On a humorous note we got onto books and learnt that it is not natural for children in Bolivia to be brought up with books, the parents seldom read to them, not unlike Richard explained to us about children in Guatemala. Ivar said that getting a child to read is even used as a punishment, his own twelve year old son even crying when told he had to read. His own father however had brought Ivar up to cherish books and he'd learnt how to care for a book, fascinating stuff.

With the growing prosperity in Bolivia, from $150 to $500 dollars a month average wage, there is a growing middle class, and these people are buying cars, and then driving their cars out of the city, and as a consequence the road we were travelling on from Lake Titicaca was becoming increasingly congested, and so was undergoing redevelopment. Well it was mile after mile of dusty, bumpy congestion, especially as we approached the outskirts of the capital, the pictures tell their own story.

We reached the edge of the valley in which La Paz lies, at 4,100 metres, and stopped at a viewpoint to gaze at one of the most amazing views I think I have ever seen, the whole of the capital bathed in sunlight below us, and home to 2,000,000 people.

And so down into the chaos of the city, a seething mass of traffic and humanity. Bolivia has an enormous black economy, it would seem even larger than the formal economy. The roads are lined both sides by predominantly indigenous ladies selling most things imaginable,many a few that are not. In the market area the shops are also filled with all manner of smuggled goods from nut and bolts to freezers, sewing machines and furniture. Most of this comes from Asia and the brands of LG and Samsung are quite obvious. Ivar explains that at half the price of the kosher products, most La Pazenos are prepared to buy on the black market and waive any warranty.

Our room at La Casona is another dark room, and so we venture up onto the rooftop terrace to munch our packed lunch. We have a great view down the main Avienda, and it's warm in the sun, but cool in the shade.

Ivar has mentioned that later in the afternoon would be good to view the city from the top of the valley, as the sun sets, and so we organise a taxi to take us to the cable car terminus, and wait for us and take us back to the hotel, for a mere B$60 per hour. There are three cable car routes installed by an Austrian company, and they a fantastic, a great way for commuters to get comfortably and quickly into the city. Our round trip costs us the equivalent of £1.20. Unfortunately the mirador in the food hall recommended by Ivar has a largely obstructed view of the city. A large tree and one of the cable car towers prevents any chance of a spectacular panorama.

Having read the Lonely Planet warnings about the safety of La Paz at night we eat in the hotel restaurant, two courses and two drinks each for a very modest £28. It's the taxis that are the curse of the place with many unauthorised vehicles roaming the streets. Express mugging has become prevalent, although Ivar suggests that the police have clamped down, but it works like this. You get into an unauthorised taxi and then some others get in also, one pretending to be a plain clothes policeman and demands to see your passport and then demands money and PIN numbers before a ride to the nearest ATM.

Wednesday 4th May:

And so we come to the end of our two weeks in Peru, and are met by Abad our guide for the two and a half hour ride to the Bolivian border, mostly along the south west shore of Lake Titicaca. Another beautiful morning and the lake is serenely calm. Do we want to stop at a church or a local livestock market, we don't have too much time as we need to get to the border before all the coaches arrived, which can mean long queues at both Peruvian and Bolivian immigration.

We opt for the market, just five minutes but it reminds us of Kashgar, this one with just sheep and llamas. Once the animals are bought they have their legs tied and are bundled into and on top of rickety old vehicles for the drive to their new home. I take a few photographs but folk are not too keen, and one lady takes issue and lobs a stone at me, albeit with a smile on her face. Abad offers her a sol which she refuses, but he explains how we are important people and how tourism brings jobs to the area, perhaps even their children, there now that's told you.

Abad is good company and gives us quite a lot of information, including as we pass through how ten years ago the mayor of Ilave was murdered by a group of the towns people because they violently disagreed with a speech he was making. He also shows us in one town the houses with no windows used to process cocaine brought in from Bolivia. Is there any effort to bring this trace to a halt, no he replies everyone gets their share including the police. He says that his father explains anyone would be stupid not to accept money from the cartels, and that he would if he were a policeman, it would risk his life and that of his family if they did not take the money, and certainly if they tried to blow the whistle.

The border is as you might imagine in the westerns, dusty, languid, and with menacing guards and policemen loitering about the place. We get stamped out of Peru, stroll under the large stone archway and get stamped into Bolivia with the obligatory photograph taken by a large Peruvian logo, and a giant can of Cusquena, the beer we have been drinking for the last two weeks, nice.

We are met by Ivar our guide for the next couple of days and are bundled into an old bus and ten minutes later we are in Copacabana, the Bolivian version. This is apparently a place of pilgrimage, and the large church does justice to that. The church is a Franciscan order but is a place where the synchronicity of Catholicism and the ancient Inca belief in Pacha Mama (Mother Earth, or the Virgin Mother) are deeply intertwined.

Copacabana is very much a backpacker town, and we stroll down to the hydrofoil that will take us on our second tour of the lake, having been pulled forward a day due to our plan to not stay on Sun Island. We join a group of Pakistani Americans from Chicago on a day trip from La Paz. It's a bumpy ride out to Isla de Sol today as the hydrofoil rises and battles with a choppy lake. We get a taste of the climbing we would have had to do as we reach the island and negotiate a lot of rocky steps up to our lunch stop. Quinoa vegetable soup and grilled trout, the staple diet in these parts, not as good as the Taquile Island version, is served up.

And now the slightly surreal part of the day, back to the hydrofoil for a wave bouncing trip in excess of two hours for a short visit to another floating reed island, just one, and in the words of Raul, the other group's guide, "a living museum", or as I might describe it, "another attempt to extort money from tourists". Still, true to form the US contingent spend a good deal of money on the colourful blankets and so it must have been a successful trip. We loiter around at the back and take a few photographs, and don't part with a single Boliviarino.

And so on to Huatajata, our new stop for the night. We wave the US group, farewell as they leave on their bus to La Paz, and we check in. As it suggested on Trip Advisor, there is no noticeable internet here, we're too far from civilisation. Another thing noticeably missing at this hotel is other guests, and it's only as we go up to our comfortable, warm room do we see that the delayed Mexican tourists are arriving and checking in.

An unexpected bonus are the visits to the natural remedy museum and the observatory. The former has been lovingly created in an adobe building by the tour company and as we get to the end we meet a real live practitioner who blesses the remainder of our journey, nice. The observatory is similarly carefully created and after the introductory video, and in the dark, the whole roof rolls back to reveal the sky, rather like being at the Millenium Stadium when it stops raining. Unfortunately tonight there is quite a bit of cloud and the southern cross is largely obscured. The observatory has a large telescope donated by the US Astronomical Society, and on the condition that it is used not just for visitors to the hotel, but also for the benefit of local people including school children, nice.

Tuesday 3rd May:

Lake Titicaca, or Great Puma, as the Incas called it. The lake has the shape of a puma, although how the Incas knew this is not explained, only that when it was photographed from space by Yuri Gagarin, and the images sent to the folk here, even pre-Google Earth culture, could the shape be seen. The lake is some 170 kilometres long by 65 kilometres wide, at an altitude of 3,810 metres, and the highest navigable lake in the world.

Today, with a clear blue sky the lake is deep blue and on the far horizon you can see the snow capped peaks of Bolivia's Cordilliera Real. Our guide Vicky explained that there are theories that the lake was once connected to the sea, could have been the Atlantic, more likely the Pacific and over the millennia has gradually given up its salt which has flowed out via the only exit river to form the salt flats in Bolivia, the Salar de Uyuni which we will visit in due course.

[This theory is refuted tomorrow by Bolivian guide Raul]

The lake has five rivers feeding it, and the one exit river in the South East in Bolivia. This outlet accounts for only 5% of the loss, with evaporation accounting for the remaining 95%. It also acts as a massive moderating influence on the climate absorbing energy during the day and releasing it at night. Without out it no agriculture would be possible and the snow line in this region would be much lower than it is.

Enough of the geography and geology lesson, today we visited two islands, one, Uros, over-commercialised, and Taqulle, a beautifully serene island community who have embraced tourism, but not sold their soul to the sol. It appears that the tourism industry has invested in the Uros and their floating islands to prevent the decline of this culture. Adjacent to Puno is a large national park area where the reeds grow in the lake and we see a few boats with people harvesting the reeds.

We meet Alicia and her husband Billian?, he is president of this island community, one of 87 islands, and this one comprising eight families. With Billian's help Vicky explains how they create and maintain an island, and how the totora reed provides building material, as well as food, the white inner tasting like palm heart apparently, and keeping their teeth white.

It then gets worse, as we are ordered into one of their reed boats, the children sing to us in seven different languages and they take ten sol each off us for the five minute crossing to another shopping opportunity.

There are ten of us in the group, and the only other English are Ian & Jill, who we met on the train yesterday. Ian is a corporate animal having worked in senior marketing roles in British Airways as well as Asda-Walmart, and by the sound of it reported to Alan Leighton for some time there. Jill had worked for Mars between 2000 & 2003 in European marketing but did not know Richard Fisher. The few names that we both knew were Andy Weston-Webb, Mike Batt and David Fish. They now run their own business, a farm with a number of holiday cottages on the Wiltshire/Somerset border.

Then the best part of the day, our visit to Taquile Island, about an hour and a half boat ride across the lake. The community on this island act very much as a cooperative, and have embraced some limited tourism. The ten of is had lunch at a local restaurant, being served with the obligatory quinoa vegetable soup, and then grilled trout; both were delicious. The social structure here is demarcated by their clothing and their headgear, so single men, married men, and the same for the women can be determined. Apparently they also seldom marry outside the local community.

The women weave, the men knit, and calendars as well as histories can be read in the intricate belts that they make and wear. Lorna returns to the boat after lunch, whilst Ian, Jill and I take a hike, and it certainly gets the respiratory rate up. We are very pleasantly surprised to see a Peruvian owl, which stop for some time to pose for us. Our hike continues round the headland where we are picked up by our boat, but not before some concern that we have got lost. The views on our walk are stunning, the deep blue of the lake complimented by many Eucalyptus trees, and the green terraces of the local farmers. The visit to Taquile has been a delight, another little highlight.

On our return Vicky tells us that a representative of the Bolivian operator Crillon Tours will be meeting us to explain our transit from Peru into Bolivia tomorrow. It turns out that this was very beneficial because when I mention luggage she says that just an overnight bag will be required for the hotel on Isla de Sol. When I ask why she explains that there is a 45 minute uphill climb to get to the hotel. Lorna is horrified and says, No Way Jose, and so alternative plans are quickly and impressively hatched. We are to stay in Hautajata, at a hotel owned by Crillon; also our itinerary for the next two days will be amended so that we don't miss anything.

We spend the rest of the evening chatting to other couples at the hotel ending up having dinner with Stewart & Liz from Stafford, he's a part time GP and part time antique shop owner, and she's a doctor specialising in STDs, apparently it doesn't require any out of hours working. Stewart is also an author, writing a series about dogs, for dog lovers. Lorna and Stewart hit it off, and after failing to gain much traction in any of the conversations I hold my peace.

Monday 2nd May:

Where else at a quarter to eleven on a Monday morning can you singalong to Twist and Shout performed by a Peruvian windpipe group......answer on the Andean Explorer between Cusco and Puno. The Explorer left Cusco at 8am for it's ten hour trip across the Andes to Puno, and it's close to the lap of luxury, with all but the alcoholic drinks included. Comfy chairs and an observation car, open at the back for grabbing those all important scenic shots.

Although I could probably cycle faster, or if not me then David Graham, this is a great way to see the beautiful Andean countryside as well as a few towns, as the train follows the road most of the way, including across the altiplano.

We dawdle down to the observation car, swig a glass of Bucks Fizz and enjoy the folk show. They're good, and I am obviously a babe magnet as I get pulled up twice to participate in the proceedings, one a solemn offering to Pacha Mama in which I'm required to arrange three coca leaves, and kneel before the other travellers in supplication, and the second time to do some Grandad dancing with a masked babe. The musicians are pretty good and I even buy a CD, 40 soles.

We stop at the high point, La Raya, 4,310 metres ASL, and yes there's a craft market where we stop for ten minutes. It's in the middle of nowhere and they're all set up just for ten minutes, but then of course there's the train travelling the other way, so they get 20 minutes of sales. I'm sneaky, and with my 1,000mm of optical and digital zoom I get some good shots of the lady with the llama and the baby lamb, and it doesn't cost me a sol, yeah!

Back on the train and lunch is served three courses, almost with silver service and a considerate Chilean Merlot, and I've got to say, LG, Life is Good.

So where were you Grandad when Leicester won the Premiership? You'll never believe it but we were crossing the altiplano by train between Cusco and Puno in Southern Peru. Chelsea 2, Spurs 2, and that's all Leicester needed for the fairy tale to be completed, Spurs can no longer catch Leicester.

And so another sight to behold, on the outskirts of Puno, a town named Juliaca where the train track runs tight between a market, not just a few yards but at least a mile, and where after the train has passed by stallholders bring their awnings out again. I've seen pictures of this in India and Bangladesh, and that's exactly where this resembled, amazing. There were even ladies with their wares spread out between the rails, fruit, books, magazines.

Sunday 1st May:

Our guide said if you can see the stars tonight, then it will be clear in the morning. So I checked at 4.30am when I got up, and yes I could see stars, it bode well for seeing the sun rise over Macchu Pichu. An early bus got me to the entrance by 6.15am and I hiked up the route we took yesterday and found a location classically overlooking the citadel and waiting for the sun rise, I wasn't disappointed. Gradually the sun crept above the high ridge to the east and gradually the whole citadel lit up, with beautiful light and shade. Everyone took the obligatory photos of themselves posing in front of the view.

After that it was decision time, Wayne Pichu, or Sun Gate, I chose Sun Gate as it would afford better views of the citadel, and it was a walk and not a scramble that Wayne would be. It took an hour to get to Sun Gate, a good bracing walk with great views all the way, which included plenty of flora and fauna. There were many Inca Trail trekkers coming down, having completed their three night, four day hike from Ollantaytamtebo.

Half an hour and I'm back down at the entrance and the day's visitors are flooding in, it seems I've really lucked out, great weather, best time. It gets better as I get on the bus with just two other ladies, and it's off, we didn't have to wait for the bus to fill, probably as they need them all at the bottom to bring people up. Excellent, back in time to have a shower and a little more breakfast.

Lorna had done the orchid garden tour, and with the help of a personal guide, found many small and hidden blooms that she wouldn't have found by herself. The Inkaterra Hotel was a beautiful place, set in a tropical garden setting, just a shame we couldn't spend a few more day here.

And then amazing coincidence number three. We're sitting in the lounge waiting for lunch and a couple come in. He says, "Is your name Allan, yes I say, From Oakham, yes I say, From Glebe Way, yes I say, I'm afraid you have the better of me sir". He is John, she is Margaret and they are very good friends of Pam & Graeme Boothman. Lorna had sent our itinerary to Pam, and they had set John, a retired policeman like Graeme, the challenge of finding us during their trip. We took the photos as evidence of John's detective ability which Lorna sends off to Pam.

Not feeling great after the walk this morning, so just a light lunch before returning on the Vitstadome train to Poroy, just outside Cusco. Our table companions are a couple of ladies from Essex and Hunstanton who have completed the Inca Trail that morning, and are looking forward to a few beers that evening in Cusco. The train journey is livened by some folk dancing, and even a fashion show. Imagine this on British Rail, the stewards in each carriage doing a fashion show, of the latest knitwear, I think not. I'm convinced that the male steward is a Peruvian version of David Walliams, the ladies are not so sure, but he does have that air that DW has, but he does look embarrassed prancing up and down the carriage in Andean knitwear.

By the time we get back it's past 8pm and so we dine in before retiring for yet another early morning, and another train journey, ten hours across the altiplano to Puno. 

Saturday 30th April:

I haven't slept too well, Lorna hasn't slept too well, both somewhat apprehensive about our trip to Macchu Pichu. Lima Tours are on time as usual, and the ride over to Ollantaytambo station is uneventful.

We're travelling via Peru Rail in a Vistadome train, and luckily we get seats on the left hand side, or the interesting side, following the Urubamba river through the Sacred Valley.

The 100 minute rail journey ends at Aguas Calientas, or in good old English, Hot Springs. Luggage is whisked away to the hotel and we are shepherded to the bus that takes everyone up to the entrance. We are met by Reuben who is great and he gives Lorna the confidence she needs, especially as the first part is a series of large steps and switchbacks to get the first site of the citadel.

We spend a good couple of hours as Reuben relates the history of MP, as well as the orientation of the place. Wayne Pichu is the iconic mountain that can be climbed each day by two groups of 200 people; I have a ticket but begin to think that that might not be the best thing to do. It I is clearly a scramble as opposed to a walk, and will not provide the iconic photograph I want early tomorrow morning. The alternative is the Sun Gate, about an hour away and with the perfect view of the citadel as the sun rises.

It is clear that the Inca's were master architects, as Reuben demonstrates at various locations by means of his trusty compass. The building of the citadel commenced around 1450, and was evacuated some 75-80 years later, for reasons that are still uncertain. Was it the Spanish advance, or was it disease?

We make our way down and Lorna is elated that she has managed to get round the place, there is no doubt the walking poles have been a great confidence booster. Rueben reminds us that we are still in the low season at MP, and they get up to 2,500 visitors per day, but in the high season of July & August they can get up to 7,000 per day, a mind boggling 150-200 buses per day.

On our return to The Inkaterra Hotel, the best in town, we find we have been upgraded and have chalet No. 1, the closest to the lounge, the bar and the dining room, Lorna is elated again. The room is lovely, except for the running water outside, but even that can't prevent us sleeping in the very comfortable beds.

Dinner is included and we marvel at the service in the restaurant, probably the biggest waiter to diner ratio anywhere we have seen and that includes the cruise ships. In bed by 9pm, and I'm ready for a 4.30am alarm to get me up to the citadel again for sunrise.....