Isla del Sol & La Paz

The busride to Copacabana was another experience. In the morning after spending the night the bus with the most disgusting toilet ever they told us that we have to go on with a public bus because this bus would be the direct bus to La Paz. Having read that this last bit to Copacabana is full of scams and mugging I was not too happy about this change of plan but in the end I arrived safely in Bolivia. I met an Australian girl with whom I got something to eat and hung out with until my ferry to the Isla del Sol was leaving at 13:30h. The boat ride was about 1,5hours over the Lake Titicaca on over 3.800meters above NN. I really enjoyed the beautiful landscape. To get to the hostel I had to go via the "Escalera de Incas" with my big backpack. Usually it is not a big deal but in this altitude it was a lot of work. Now it is three weeks that I am over 3.000meters and I am looking so much forward to come back to a normal altitude. But all the suffering is worth for what I am seeing. On the island itself it was really quiet and all there was to do is watching the sun go down and walk around all the way up north to explore some more ruins of the Incas. This is what I did the first day. By now I also had to realize that I would be getting sick. My stomach started to do weird stuff and also coughing got to an every day business of mine. Thanks to Immodium and other drugs I do not bother to much. The next morning I got the morning ferry back to Copacabana to catch a bus to La Paz. Interestingly I had to pay 20Bolivianos instead of 10 that it cost to get to the island. They have done it every time and it is getting REALLY annoying...On the way back I met four German girls who are doing voluntary work in Paraguay. As I am still not knowing if I also travel through Paraguay I found it very informative talking to them.


I was on the bus to La Paz with a German couple giving some comfort among all the Bolivianos. Next to me sat an old man who could speak German being Bolivian. He had lived in Germany in the 60s and 70s. After about an hour we had to get off the bus to cross some water body. Having seen the really to safe looking ferry for the bus I was happy to be on the passenger boat. My hostel in La Paz was chosen and after the price for the taxi was negotiated and the license plate written down by a police officer I arrived safely at my destination. The ride through the city was very slow due to traffic, the air completely polluted, hurting in the nostrils when breathing. Most of the houses here are half finished-La Paz, the highest capital of the world & completely hectic. On my first day I went to the Witch´s Market and booked my Death Road Adventure for the next day.

At 7:30h was the pick up. I was looking forward to this event eventhough not really knowing what would expect me-Downhill the Death Road, the most dangerous road in the world, with a mountain bike. 65Km and 3500m altitude were to manage. When this road was still the only connection each month one bus or truck was falling of the up to 600m cliffs doing dangerous maneuvers to let another cars pass. Climatewise we had everything...clowds, fog, rain, sun, and almost tropical temparatures at the end of the trip. It was great fun and although we knew how deep you fall once leaving the street we went down with a fairly good speed. Unfortunately, my group was full of arrogant French leaving me and a German couple as a separate group. The Germans had loads of fun and were making fun of the French whenever they could. Imagine this...out of six French only one could undestand the English language and had to translate the information given by the guide...Now how embarrassing is that?!? Wake up guys-French is not the world anymore (and it never was). The whole trip was good fun though and going back up with the van with the bikes on the roof was even more scary than going downhill. Now back in La Paz I am hoping to hear from Andrea and Vera soon to meet up again before I go home...