March 22: Copacabana (Isle del Sol)

Most everyone who visits Copacabana spends at least one full day on Isle del Sol – many spend the night. From here, it’s the lakes biggest attraction. While one can just show up at the harbor at around 8:00am and grab a boat ticket, I chose to purchase mine the day before (Grace Tours: Bs 20). The cost is the same whether you buy at the harbor or in town… perhaps there are availability issues in the high season. It was a horrible, rainy morning when we set off at 8:30am, packed like sardines inside this old, wooden vessel containing nothing that resembled a life jacket. If this thing went Titanic on us, we were pretty much doomed. The rain seeping in through the boards of the ceiling didn’t help ease this fear, nor did it make for a particularly pleasant two-hour ride. I just held on to my hope that this weather would clear away – others explained to me that it was like this every morning. Clearly, from looking at this photograph, things got better.

Arriving at the north end of the island, we were greeted by a guide who herded us over to a ticket booth and museum. The Bs 10 ticket, we were told, was for access to the trail and the exhibit. Many of us, however, had our doubts. Nevertheless, we paid up and perused the lackluster artifacts and photographs of what, despite the unspectacular display, was actually quite an interesting story about newly discovered underwater artifacts – sort of like the remains of a Titicaca Atlantis. From there, as the sun burst through the parting clouds, we took to the trail. Most hikers chose to ditch the tour guide because it was slow and in Spanish, and enjoyed the 3-plus hour journey to the south end of the island. Along the way, when I wasn’t busy getting lost, there was plenty of terrific views of the reflective water and old Inca sites along the arid hills. For those, such as myself, who were only doing the day trip, the boat leaves for Copacabana a little after 3:30pm. Many of us sat on the roof, soaking in the warm rays of the setting sun… which then dipped below some distant clouds, once again shattering the possibility of seeing a sunset.

Back on the mainland, I watched a little organized court soccer as the sky grew darker into the night. It was there, while watching the game, that I ran into Cecilia and Lena, two (entirely new) Swedish girls that I had actually first met on the bus into Puno. They had just arrived in Copa and, having just spoken to a Danish girl about some great place to have dinner, invited me to join them for a little chili con carne. After the relatively quiet evening I had experienced the night before, I was pleased that things were already looking up. The town, itself, even seemed to be buzzing with a little more energy. Who knows… maybe Wednesday night is when things start to pick up around here.

The restaurant the girls had been told to visit was a little place called Chirlmoskl. I have no idea what the name means, nor can I find any mention of it on the internet, but I have no reservations in giving it two enthusiastic thumbs up. Situated right on the waterfront, close the soccer court, this little hole in the wall joint served up some fantastic vittles. The chef is this tall, quirky, bearded German guy (seen here in the window) who may or may not also be the owner. I really have no idea. Either way, he speaks English, and can make one hell of a chili con carne. With lightning storm blasting out over the lake, we sat in there next to our large open window, sharing a couple large beers, listening to jazz and Bob Marley, and savoring the food. Besides the chili, he also serves all of his patrons some soft chunks of bread for dipping in two different garlic sauces and two different hot sauces. Just a great restaurant – go for the chili!

After dinner, we walked up the main strip and settled into Copa’s coziest little hangout café, Akwaaba. With pillows on the floor and low tables, this is the ideal bohemian place to sip tea, drink beer, play cards, and have a great philosophical discussion about just about anything. Cecila, on the left, and Lena were great company for the evening, and I found myself wanting to bottle up the atmosphere to take home to The States… it was the anti-Starbucks. Even after the girls retired for the evening, I stuck around until late, chatting it up with a group of five travelers from Ireland. No other country, at least from what I have experienced, has provided me with friendlier, livelier, more intelligent people than the Emerald Isle.

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