‘Her name was Lola’ is the only line we keep on repeat while we stay in the quaint lakeside town of Copacabana, nestled into the mountains surrounding Lake Titicaca, Bolivia. Our Cliffside
hotel hostel boasts breathtaking views of the city and expansive lake as well as its own Llama farm/hammock reading area on the cliff. Though it’s hard to relax when a Llama is sniffing your hair and licking your face. We spend our last day in Bolivia on Isla Del Sol- and the name lives up to its scorching reputation- I came away with one lobster red leg (I had an unfortunate run in falling off a boat and skinning my leg, hence becoming peg leg) and shoulders that couldn’t bear backpacks for days.
This old school Bolivian island is pretty breathtaking. After a 2 hour boat trip we’re dropped at the North of the island and begin the 3 hour hike to the most southern port to be picked up in the afternoon. Seems easy, right? …Wrong. How two seemingly intelligent and adventure savvy women F****d that one up is beyond me. We ended up at the wrong port (there’s literally only one track to follow?) we missed our boat and had to pay again for a second crossing home. FAIL. Time to say goodbye to our kissing llamas and Bolivia and cross into Peru for some guinea pig.
Cusco greets us at 4am from a night bus entailing God knows how many border stops and passport inspections. I swear officer, I am
Legitimately this chubby faced grump in my passport… it was a rough year.
Cusco is one of those adorable towns that makes you slow down and want to lay in bed all day. It kind of became the calm before the Machu Picchu storm. We met up with Mikko again for a few days of eating scrummy food, having full body massages daily and drinking Pisco Sours. It’s a hard life huh? But someone has to endure it. We’ve both come away with far too much winter wear (legitimate baby llama, stamped and everythng, I PROMISE) and I am the proud new owner of a horrendously cheesy knitted alpaca sweater #comf
One fun night dancing to local Peruvian bands at the Pisco Museum (how many Amaretto Sours is too many? Answer: none) and we take off to FINALLY check off the ultimate bucket list: MACHU PICCHU.
After Brits horrible 4 day bedridden sickness, we weren’t really feeling the epic trek/camping expedition so decided to take the Jungle tour.
Day one saw us cruising through a 70k bike ride (I still can’t sit with ease or feel my fingers) and a 3 hour river rafting adventure. We then spent 2 full days hiking, with a cruisy early morning zip line trough the jungle.
Oh, we also can’t forget another addition of ‘weird things you’ll invariably do while backpacking’
~do the worm in a Peruvian dance club in your thermal pajamas….
Because a quick post shower dinner in your hostel inevitably turns into fifty Pisco sours and climbing poles in clubs in your sleepwear, ending at 3am with a bag of oreos and hot chip filled street hamburgers.
3 hours sleep and another 8 hours hiking…..
We rose at 4am to start the 3000 stair ascent in the dark to reach Machu Picchu by sunset. Those who have climbed before me will appreciate the pure satisfaction you feel when you reach the top. I’ve not felt anything quite like it and I’m dubious as to whether I will again. And so we crept in the dark to the furthest vantage point to watch the sun rise and bathe Machu Picchu in sunlight and infinite glory…. Is what SHOULD have happened. Instead, it was freezing, foggy, raining and we had about an 8.4 second window when the fog lifted in which to take our token ruin photos. However, the awful weather did in no way detract from the insane beauty and MISTicysm of Machu Picchu. It’s presence is quite overwhelming and we spent a long while just sitting and ‘being.’ and basking in the pure magnetism of the Ruins. But by 8am our spiritual kinship had depleted and we’d eaten ALL our packed breakfast, lunch AND snacks (damn snickers.. just way too alluring) and the heavens had opened up and even my 2 dollar poncho was no match for the torrent of rain. So down we go.
Machu Picchu: Been there, done that.