Puno, Lake Titicaca and the floating islands

We took a blisteringly hot bus from Arequipa to Puno (the temperature gauge said 42 degrees and I was willing to drop for the whole 6 hour journey. According to 'the book', Arequipa to Puno is one of the most dangeroud bus jounreys you can do in Peru, due to the altitude and driver tiredness. I don know why they should be more tired on this journey that others but I got the altitude. When we arrived in Puno we were certainly having a bit of trouble breathing, and didn't sleep quite right the whole time we were there.

We spent a bit of time trying to work out the correct title for Lake Titicaca. Was it the highest Lake, or the highest Big Lake? Apparently it is the 'Highest Navigable Lake' in the world. So we set out the next morning to navigate our way across to the Floating Islands. Opting not to go with a proper tour company, we headed for the port and were soon accosted by a man selling us boat trip to the islands. We got on board, watched by the crowd of Peruvians thronging the quayside and donned our lifejackets.

We soon looked stupid as we the boat filled up and we were the only ones wearing lifejackets. So the Ellis' removed theirs. I don't know why, but I kept mine on.

After half an hour boat ride we were there and setting foot on the floating islands. Very strange, as they are made of layers of reeds and were very spongy. We sat down and were introduced to Walter, who gave us a history of the islands and some info on their construction, before kindly taking us to his house. (I say kindly, but we soon found out why we got the invite, behind the richest-looking people in the boat). We had a quick chat about the careers of David Beckham and Frank Lampard (he was talking to the wrong people here I think), and he introduced us to his wife and little baby, before dressing us up and prising $40 from Rich's clenched fist for a hand-made wall-hanging. Which luckily I wanted anyway.

Back in Puno and on dry land, we bought our cheap bus tickets to Cusco and went to have some dinner. The lovely lady with the squeaky voice in our hostel seemed surprised when we told her we were going to Cusco, but it may have just been the natural pitch of her voice.