From the Bolivian Andes to the border of Peru

Pics of Sorata are here:
Pics of our Andean Trek is here:
Pics of Lake Titicaca are here:

Sorata

Whoever described Sorata as the Garden of Eden adequately conjured up the perfect image of this town, nestled in the mountains above two rivers converging with the snow-capped Andes hovering over it. The town sits at about 2,700 meters with a great temperature during the day and a bit cool at night. We arrived towards the end of the rainy season, and knew it was a bad one with remnants of many mudslides. But we had some great weather the first few days and had a chance to explore the surrounding areas. We went on a beautiful walk, the first day, down to the river, were we encountered the amazing beauty and the only setback of the town…horrible biting flies.

The town is built on a large hill (we would call it a mountain) and our hostel was down 8 flights of steps and a steep hill, but with a killer view and the sound of the river in the distance. The place, Las Piedras, was owned by a friendly German woman who made amazing breakfasts, snacks and cookies. We had a balcony outside our room and I got to draw in the sunshine while Erin meditated.

Our second day we went on a 10km hike to the local cave, San Pedro. We followed a twisty and muddy road high above the canyon which the river tore through noisily far below. We had amazing sunshine and great vistas around every turn. The cave itself was a lot of fun. There was a little lake inside, and although small, had a paddle boat! We enjoyed a fried egg sandwich and some beer outside before the long walk home. We didn’t realize it on our way there that the hike was a gradual downhill…so the way home was a bit sweaty, but still amazingly beautiful. The next day we decided to keep up the trend of moving our bodies and climbed the local mountain. We couldn’t find the path up so we just went straight up from the farm below, which was an ass-kicker. As we climbed higher the plants got spikier and there was lots of razor grass, so we had to tread lightly. We were surprised to find farming and gardens everywhere, no matter the altitude or the steepness of the terrain. The locals are very resourceful. We got to the saddle of the mountain with a rewarding view of the landscape.

We tried climbing around the tiny footpath that wrapped around the sound but the height of the path and the poor footing gave us vertigo, so we stayed put and called it the summit. The way down was awesome. We cut across farms to get to a road out in the distance across from the mountain to avoid the razor grass and steep and muddy mountainside. We passed tons of locals, one who sold us a handful of peaches for a nickel. By the time we got back we could tell that our legs were starting to get into fairly good climbing shape. We booked a 4 day trek into the Andes two days ahead to avoid the crowds of Easter. The guys at the “Association of Guides” were amazingly friendly and warm. One of them worked to help start a home for children from the country whose commute to school was too long. The children lived at the home during the week and walked 2 to 10 hours back to their country home on the weekends. Anyhow, Erin and I ended up teaching them English in the evenings for a few nights. The first evening we showed up, expecting to have more of a cultural exchange with a few kids, only to find a classroom of over 20 kids ready to learn. It ended up being a fantastic experience and I truly hope that if any of you reading this blog make it to Sorata and ask the local kids “How are you?” that they’ll be able to say “Word up, dog. Give me a peso.” Joking.

Since we had one more day before our trip I found a guy who rented us mountain bikes, which turned about to be a bit of a fiasco. Not knowing what I was getting us into we took a bus with our crappy bikes and a guide to the highest point of the road that took us into town, close to 4,000 meters. It was a cold and overcast day and the curvy and windy ride down chilled our unprepared bodies to the bone. We couldn’t feel our hands, which probably didn’t matter because the gears and breaks didn’t work so well anyways. It was a cold, muddy and scarey experience. The next day we packed our bags four our first real deal hiking trek.

Trekking through the Andes

The morning of the trek we went to the market with our guide Jose. We bought food, kerosene and odds and ends for 4 people. The fourth was for a guy to watch our stuff on the 3^rd day while we hiked to a mountain lake glacier. We found out later that day that this “guy” turned out to be Raquel, his 12 year old daughter. She was twice as fast as me on the mountain and ate twice as much as me too! Anyways, Jose packed up two mules, who I like to affectionately call Mule1 and Mule2.

We hiked the first hour and a half to his house in a small mountain town, where we picked up Raquel. The rest of the day was hiking up and up and up into the mountains. It was hard work but extremely beautiful. I felt strong and was leading the group. I remarked to Erin how great I felt and how I haven’t gotten sick in South America so far. Well, some angry and vindictive omnipotent being must have heard me at that moment because it was probably less than 3 hours later when I felt like I was coming down with a fever. By the time I went to bed I had the worst shaking chills of my life, mixed with nausea and the runs. I barely slept that night because I was freezing, partly the altitude, and I had to keep running out of the tent. In the morning I noticed how incredibly beautiful the meadow with goats, mules and horses that we camped in was, and that maybe I didn’t bring enough toilet paper. We had some oatmeal, I rallied, and we moved on. Thankfully this day was more lateral without too much vertical gain. By lunch time I was in pretty bad shape but the utter beauty of being alone in the wilderness offset my physical state. Erin was an amazing support, and Jose and Raquel were very helpful. Our second night was at about 4,500 meters…cold. We had an amazing view over Sorata and were camped along a tiny lake.

The 3^rd day was a tough one. We woke up early and hiked 5 hours up to a famous glacier by a lake while our watchman, Raquel, stayed with the gear. It was fairly slow moving and very tough, loose and rocky terrain. As we climbed the clouds seemed to be chasing us, and by the time we make it to the glacier we were just about surrounded. Thankfully we had a solid hour before we got fogged in and decided to turn around. We enjoyed a spam and tomato sandwich, rested a bit, and then hike the 4 hours back through the fog.

If I haven’t mentioned it before, coca tea is an amazing beverage. Made from coca leaves, the derivative of cocaine, they are an excellent stimulant, appetite suppressant, and very medicinal for altitude. These leaves changed Erin’s and my life. It became ritual to drink the tea in the morning and to take it on hikes in altitude. Good stuff. The night of our 3^rd day several groups came up to camp nearby to hike the glacier. We realized a bunch of tourists must have arrived to Sorata after we left for Easter, marking the start of tourist season. We were so thankful to having had Sorata tourist free, a quiet and tranquil hike, and amazing guides. This far outshined being sick, and I was able to sustain myself for the entire trek. It wasn’t until after the hardest 5 hours of downhill of my life did I have access to some Imodium. Boy was the down hill steep. My knees hurt for days afterwards. It was really interesting to slowly enter civilization again. We past mountain farmers, than sheep herders, more trekkers setting out to the mountain, and then commuters of far off towns on the paths. As we got closer to Sorata the villages grew until finally we were in town with the left over remnants of Easter. We warmly welcomed the hot empanadas and home-made ice cream. We said our goodbyes to our lovely guides and enjoyed our last night in Sorata. We noted how special this town was, how the people are more outgoing and friendly than the other high altitude towns of Bolivia. We started to recognize locals and feel a bit like we belonged there. Sorata definitely holds a dear place in our hearts, and a return trip some day is a must.

Traveling to Lake Titicaca

Well, it was finally time to leave our little slice of heaven and make our way to Lake Titicaca (best name ever). I popped another Imodium for safe measure and we caught the next microbus out of town. I sat in the front next to a guy who is half Bolivian and half American. What an amazing conversation. We learned about the political and social climate in the country and all the big news and what-to-dos that are going on with the proposal of their new constitution. We got off at a tiny town to catch another bus to Lake Titicaca. The bus, a big one, that picked us up was totally full so we sat in the very front with the lady who collects the money. Erin had a great conversation with her about the differences of our countries.

Copacabana, our destination, is across a small body of water on the lake. So the bus was actually put on a motorized platform and taken across the lake, only a couple hundred of meters. It was another 30 minute ride until we arrived in the land of tourism and amenities. It was shocking to see so many white people. We got a hostel with a nice view of the lake and set out to take care of airplane tickets, details for the trip and to enjoy some good eating. That night, unbeknownst to us, was a super loud post east party that kept us up most of the night. The next morning, a bit tired, we got up early and caught a boat to Isla Del Sol, supposedly where the Incan Empire started. We relaxed on the beach, letting the other tourists disperse, and played with a nearby pig. After a yummy trout lunch we were ready to follow the Inca trail. The only problem was we couldn’t find it. So we climbed the local mountain, and from the top we saw a well made path leading south. There were a fair amount of people walking on the path, enough to merit little path-side stands selling warm beer, water and candy. The day was really lovely, and we enjoyed being at the high altitude (13,000ish feet) but dangerously sunny island (I think the sun was born here).

We originally thought we were going to sleep on the island but we didn’t bring enough money so we found ourselves sprinting down the hillside at the end of the day to catch the last ferry home. The ferry ride home we sat on the top of the boat with a bunch of hyper gypsy-types from Argentina. They were a lot of fun and after one of them caught me drawing them I drew the three sitting across from me. I’ve started a nice habit of emailing and snail mailing pics of my sketches to the people who model for me.

We spent our last night together back at Copacabana and had another yummy meal. The next morning we crossed the border into Peru (by this time we’re now experts at border crossing and money exchange). We took the bus to Puno, where Erin spent the night before flying to Lima and I took another bus another 8 hours west to Cusco. We were now separate for 10 days to get some serious space and time to travel alone doing what we wanted. Erin went to go surf in Lima and I wanted to do another trek to Machu Picchu. It was exciting and scary to be alone, but 10 days isn’t all that long.