We´re alive, just lazy.

We survived the Salkantay (the alternate Inca trail route), Krista is writing more on this soon, and we´re expecting a guest post from Susannah who was a trooper and joined us on the trail without having the two weeks in Cusco to acclimiatize to the altitude (which turned out to be a very helpful thing for Krista and I... still feeling bad about that, Sus), but we´ve left Peru and the comfort of Ana Maria´s home behind and taken to the road. Successfully crossed the border into Bolivia after an overnight bus ride punctuated by an early morning combi ride. K had to fork out a large chunk of cash (apparently since Evo´s been President all US citizens have to pay $100 at the border despite what Lonely Planet says). I got by with my Irish passport but did have to spend sometime justfying a South African birthplace and American accent in bad Spanish to a rather militarial and unhappy official.

We spent three days in Cococabana on Lake Titicaca, the largest lake in the world at the highest altitude (I think I have my facts right here!) It´s a cute little bohemian town and on the first night we hiked up the hill overlooking the town and watched the sunset over the lake, had dinner at The Cupala, the nicest place in town, (don´t worry it´s all Boliviano´s so I think we had a bottle of wine, steak, and choc fondue for under $30 total).

On Saturday we woke up and took a boat across to Isla del Sol which according to Incan myth is the birthplace of Incan civilization. It´s a beautiful, very slighly inhabited island in the middle of Lake Titi with a number of Incan ruins and terraces of crops. We hiked to the south of the island and then back to the north toward an enigma of a hostel that Krista´s guidebook had recommended because of the good food and owner´s interest in sustainable development. After many reassuring, ¨poco poco¨ just around the corners from the in awe locals (the native language here is the indigenous amayru (sp?) not Spanish), we found the hostel as the sun was setting, but it seemed abandoned. All was dark, the kitchen was locked, and no one was anywhere to be found - just a few kids´ clothes hanging out to dry on the fence. Luckily, the rooms were open with beds made (!) so K and I made the executive decision to eat some crackers that we had bought for the boat ride for dinner, get in bed, and see what the morning brought. About an hour later two precious little girls, their mother on their tail, knocked on the door and made our unofficial crash, much more official with a delicous trout dinner and some peek-a-boo.

The next morning, I woke up spewing from all ends (think I was being punished for a piece of lettuce that I ate the day before) so we took pretty slow. Took a row boat to the north of the island and Krista bravely hiked to the northernmost Incan ruins while I lay on the side of the trail and got all kinds of sympathy, odd looks, and magical nausea-reducing herbs from the locals and tour guides walking past.

We met some nice American girls on the boat back to Coco and ended up having dinner and going to a little local beach party with one of them and with a local dreadlocked bar owner/bartender in Amsterdam who´d warmed to Krista (and her almost dreads) earlier in the day.

This morning we left Coco and after a relatively painless bus ride (thanks so some incense burning, music playing Argentinians who sat in front of us) we made it to La Paz this afternoon. La Paz is kind of wild and a little overwhelming after the peacefulness of Isla del Sol and Coco. It´s the capital of Bolivia with over a million people. The drive in was incredible as the whole city is in a valley surrounded by mountains with the buildings slowly creeping up the sides of the mountain. We walked through the main Plaza and the witches market (where one can buy dried llama fetuses and all sorts of cocaine by-products) and up to the main market (where one can buy anthing imaginable - lights, toilets, locks, shoes) and we felt very local.

More anon. I think ("I think¨ because we´ve now entered the blank portion of our intinerary until April 4) we´re headed to Santa Cruz on an overnight bus tomorrow so we can catch the ¨Death Train¨ into Brazil by Wednesday. Then planning on doing some WWOOF-ing volunteer work on a farm in Brazil (with a very friendly farmer named Felipe) for a few days before heading to stay with Dad´s friends in Sao Paulo, so we´ll try to keep the blog updated, but think it will be a lot of travel time and the farm has no electricty.

Oh and my tummy is ok. Krista´s a good doctor. xx