7:30 am, port of Puno. I finally get the boat crossing to the island of Amantani! The crossing is smooth, the lake is a plank and the scenery is lovely. T he day is hot, the sun at more than 4 mila meters is scorching hot. In fact, hot!
The guide chats, explains the history of Lake Titikaka, its inhabitants and its floating suns. After about an hour of emerald water and snow-spattered mountains on the horizon, we dock on a floating island. Small, with 5 cottages made of bamboo, the same material the island itself is made of. Explanation by the village chief, souvenir sale time, and then we board a small, exotically shaped ferry, which takes us on a small cruise.
We land on another island and a local child is fascinated by my compact camera. I let him use it, and in no time my memory is flooded with photos of strangers 😀
One more hour of sailing and we disembark on the island of Amantani. From the opposite side. In a hurry. The boat has to go with the rest of the tourists!
In a flash I find myself catapulted back in time. The locals dressed in typical clothing, exactly as one might imagine from us Westerners.
The island, with vegetation very reminiscent of Mediterranean islands, consists of 4 small villages, connected by tiny, mostly dirt roads, little more than footpaths, on which small motorcycles, very reminiscent of Asian ones, run at crazy speeds.
There are no cars on the island, no room for them, the paths are about 1 meter wide.
And here arises the problem, the accommodation is located exactly on the opposite side of the island, the paths leading from that side climb to the mountainous part and then descend to the other side.
There is no transportation, I have all my luggage with me, it is quite hot and the phone doesn’t work, there is no reception.
So, with the help of a person, I convince some guys on motorcycles to give us a ride. One motorcycle for luggage and one for passenger.
The most reckless motorcycle ride I have ever done begins ( for those who don’t know me, I am a motorcyclist with more than 10 years of experience:D ).
Without any form of protection, on dirt, cobblestone, incredibly bumpy trails, no more than 1 meter wide, with sharp turns and continuous ups and downs, the bikes sped past boulder walls, eucalyptus fronds and across streams. They were probably in a hurry to get back to the only bar on the island from how much gas they were giving us :DD
Eventually we arrived at what was supposed to be the lodging and fast as the wind the bikers left not before promising they would be back at 6 a.m. to pick me up two days from now (you have to remember that the phone didn’t work). Only the house was not that!!! Panic!
After disturbing the half-islanders (always very kind and helpful) and interrupting their camp activities, I arrive at the accommodation on foot, (luckily it was not very far away). And there I am presented with a wonderful, picture-postcard view and two really exquisite homeowners……