Djurdjevic - Personal Photos

FROM PUNO, Jan 29 - Before turning in on our first night in Puno, I sent the following message to our family and friends:

Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men? They are easily thwarted by the Creator if they are not in alignment with the forces of the universe. Almost nothing happened according to (our) Puno plan.

During the night, Elizabeth got violently sick to her stomach. By the morning, she was running a fever. So I called our local contact and canceled the plans he had made for us for the day. Then I brought her some liquids and medication. This time, it was not altitude sickness. By all symptoms, it seemed she was struck down by a stomach flu. While she rested and slept, I went for a walk around town.

When we arrived last night, Puno looked like a drab and dirty town, especially outside its small city center. That became quickly obvious to me as I walked toward the lakeshore.

I could have taken a lot more ugly pictures of the city, like the two on the left, but I tried to find the positive instead. Still, I had to let you see what the kind of taxis they still use in Puno (two middle right frames). Even in India, which gave this type of transportation its name, the rikshas are motorized by now. But not here. And given the 12,655 ft altitude of the city and Lake Titicaca (right), and the number of hills over which Puno is sprawled, I figure that the riksha drivers have the healthiest heart and lungs in town.

After about a 20 minute walk, I finally reached the famed lake. Famed, because that's where life on this planet began, according to Inca legends. They say that when Sun shed a tear, that's where it dropped on Earth. Then the children of the Sun, Manco Chapaq and Mama Qqllo (the Inca versions of Adam and Eve, minus the apple) emerged from the waters of the Sacred Lake Titicaca and went to find fertile place for the foundation of the great Inca empire. That place was Cusco where they procreated and spread the wisdom among mankind they received from Inti Taita (Father Sun).

Needless to say, I had high expectations of the highest lake in the world, a tear of the Sun, from where life on this planet supposedly began. Well, I am sorry to say I was disappointed. I have seen many prettier lakes all over the world. The shoreline was shallow and marshy. Local residents have even planted potatoes and various other crops in the stretch of land between water and the modern key. Others tended to their sheep and goats. Loose dogs were running around everywhere, again as in the slums of India.

The nicest thing on the waterfront was a new key that the federal government in Peru built a few years ago. I walked along for about a mile in each direction and took random shots of scenes that looked interesting.

I had read about the Lake Titicaca boats made of "totora" reeds, but I have never before seen one.

When I first looked down and saw this old man fussing about something, I had no idea that what looked like trash that floated close to the lake shore was actually an old and dilapidated reed boat. Soon, the old man showed himself to be a gondolier, slowly pushing the boat toward those marshy islands you can see in the distance in the rightmost shot. I have no idea what attracted him there, but that's where I lost sight of the old man.

Perhaps the nicest memory of my morning walk was this cute little Inca girl with a red hat. The old man and the little girl... a study of contrasts; life on a lakeshore.

When I returned to our hotel room, Elizabeth was still feeling sick and running a fever. So I decided to go out and buy a thermometer so we can see how high it was. Well, that turned into an adventure. Here's what I wrote about it in my trip diary the following day:

And now, here are some pictures I took of a sunny Puno center, the only colorful area in the city, as I gallivanted around town in search of a thermometer, alcohol and prayers...

The tour boat to the Uros floating islands was scheduled to leave the docks at 4PM. I was picked up by a minibus at our hotel and taken to the harbor.

Earlier in the day, I saw an usual building that looked like a ship which ran aground and was nestled between rocks (left). Later I learned it was an exclusive and expensive hotel called "Libertador." You can see also it in the middle left frame from the backside, as we passed it by boat on our way to the floating islands. The circled image in the middle right photo is an actual ship. The "Yaravi" was one of two steamships built in England in 1860, then transported by sea, and on the back of mules and horses over the Andes mountains from Lima to Lake Titicaca. The other ship was "Yapura."

How was that possible a century and a half ago? Anything is possible with imagination and courage. And money. Ramon Castilla, president of Peru at the time, ordered the ships built in such a way that no single part may exceed the weight that a single mule or a horse can carry. Eventually, after all the parts arrived in Puno, the two ships were reassembled and put to service. "Yaravi" is now being restored while "Yapura" is still in services as a hospital ship of the Peruvian navy.

The boat we were sailing on to the floating islands (right), was a little smaller but no faster that the two steamships. It was a typical river-type boat that chugged along slowly. The photo album below is a journal of our journey. Visiting the floating islands, and riding in one of those magnificent reed gondolas was the highlight of our two-and-a-half day stay in Puno/Lake Titicaca. Check it out...

The group on our boat was very international. There were two sets of Australians, several Brazilian groups, some Argentinians, Colombians and Ecuadorians. And then there was also one "Yank," as the Aussies call us. Overall, the tour took about three hours.

When I got back, Elizabeth's fever had shot up to 39C (103F). So I ran out and got her some bigger dosages of aspirin. By late evening, the fever had subsided. It felt almost normal. She had a good sleep, she told me in the morning.