Lago titikaka, or Lake Titicaca, means "puma head" in the indigenous language. At 3800 meters, Titikaka is the highest lake in the worldand belongs both to Peru and Bolivia. We boarded a boat around 845 in the morning to access the man-made floating island of Uros. It took about 30 minutes to reach Uros. I was a bit uncomfortable at first, because it felt like we were exploiting the people there, as it seems they put on a show for us (tourists in general). But they have chosen tourism as their main source of income. Four families live on the island of Uros, and they have set it up for tourism. The community works together to build the island by tying layers of tampote grass. (When dried, it reminds me of bamboo). Obviously, the grass rots from the bottom up, as it sits in the water. Layers must constantly be added to the top to keep the island from disappearing. The people built their homes in the traditional way, made of grass and straw so that tourists can see how they lived in the past. The women on the island hand embroider and sew various handicrafts. We hopped back into the boat for an hour and 45 minutes to reach the peninsula of Llachón. I suppose it was good to have a rest day off of the bikes and an interesting stopover at the homestay, though I could have lived without it. The people are genuinely kind. It was freezing last night and though C and I cuddled close and were warm enough in bed, we couldn't get out of bed. There wasn't any heat, electricity or running water in the rustic accommodations, and I woke up stiff and achy this morn. One of my glands feels a little swollen, I'm hoping it's just because I slept fitfully last night. We huddled under the covers by 845 last night and called it a day. We slept in the canyon, in cabanaconde. The temp dropped down but there were many warm and heavy blankets in our lodging. Usually I'm a furnace during the night, so C snuggles up close to me for warmth. We left after breakfast so we could view the condors putting on their show. The Cruz Del Condor is a location that has thermal winds, which the giant birds catch to become airborne. This is a big tourist a lot with several local traditional women setting up shop to sell handmade alpaca items. After about an hour, we hopped on our bikes and began our descent into the canyon. 3800m (12,844) and traveled 17k. After lunch I rode another 10k to the town of Copraque, before hopping into the support van, while the others continued by bike to the next location. I am usually the last rider in, the slowest, but I'm getting the job done. The isolated accommodation was, by Peruvian standards, a resort. There were hot springs on the property, so we soaked our aching bones for a bit before dinner. It's been a few days since I have been able to get online. (Totally okay with that.) Last night was chilly and we had piles of heavy blankets on us in bed. When we came back from dinner, we found a lovely and mysterious surprise of candy on the nightstand. When C got into bed she exclaimed how warm my feet were, but my feet weren't yet under the covers! Along with the candies, we were left the gorgeous surprise of a hot water bottle at the foot of the bed. Although we were in bed early, we were awake enough to watch a (pre-downloaded) episode of Orange is the New Black on my iPad. (Almost done with this season!) The next morning we loaded the van to continue on to Puno and Lake Titicaca. Cycling Day Two: Arequipa The van brought us further out into the countryside and we cycled around small villages, up some killer hills and some slow, steady inclined as well. We covered about 10 miles and reached an altitude of 2900 meters. Whoa, that's high! I think I'm adjusting to the altitude alright so far. Tomorrow we head out to Colca Canyon, reaching an altitude of 4800 meters. We arrived in Lima after a long day of travel. Jet Blue actually canceled our first flight (from Newark to Fort Lauderdale) but they were able to get us on a flight at JFK so we could still make our connecting flight to Lima. We were shuttled off to JFK via Lyft. JFK is a cluster. I remembered why I don't ever fly out of that airport. We made it into Lima and to our accommodation in the Barranco neighborhood just before 1 AM. We slept well and we slept in. After we dined on the meager breakfast provided at our hostel, we headed out walking to explore the neighborhood. On our way to the ATM we happened upon a free walking tour and decided to join. Along the way we stopped at el Pointe de Suspiros, the Bridge of Sighs. Legend says that if you hold your breath while walking over the bridge you get to make a wish once you reach the other side. The tour concluded with the tasting of the national drink, a Pisco sour, (but of course I did not partake). Barranco is a manageable neighborhood with many places to eat, drink and dance. To my dismay, there are also (several) Starbucks and Dunkin' Donuts. Traffic is crazy bad in Lima and Barranco is no exception so we enjoyed wandering on foot. On Thursday we took the local tram car into the city center and checked out the catacombs at the San Francisco Church. Sadly, I wasn't allowed to photograph the many piles of human skulls and femurs we saw there. In the evening, my goal was to get to an AA meeting and then go dancing at one of the 4 gay clubs in the city. I arrived at the meeting a few minutes late because the cab driver dropped us off at the wrong church so we had to run a few blocks to get to the correct location. However, once at the correct church there was no answer on the big brown door. First mission failed. It was only 7pm and the homo club didn't open until 11... consequently mission number two failed as well because I didn't have enough mojo to stay out until then. Work is out for the summer, and I should be elated. However, I am not feeling the freedom part of my vacation time yet. Bag disasters, plantar fasciitis flare-ups and a minor car crash lead to a full on anxiety attack. On Saturday, some guy backed into my car while attempting an illegal u-turn, even though I was laying on my horn. He smashed my headlight and bumper, but I was not hurt. (Just one more thing to take care of before I leave the country for six weeks.) Saturday was the NYC Dyke March, my favorite yearly protest. This year, I decided to step it up a notch and be trained as a marshal, (and I convinced my pal Elvis to join in the marshal fun). Despite the car crash, I made it to the train and to the march on time to sign in and receive my official tee-shirt. It was the perfect day for the march, not too hot or humid and it didn't pour like previous years. (Pictures posted below.) After the march and shenanigans I made my journey home. By the time I arrived home, my plantar fasciitis had flared up so badly that I limped up the back steps to my apartment. I wasn't prepared for the site when I pulled off my socks and shoes. My foot was so swollen and puffed up that I had no arch, and no visible lines on the bottom of my foot. I spent Monday running around like a loon, getting estimates on the damage to my car ($1200), visiting the chiropractor to rehab my foot, and doing last minute things. Tuesday evening is here, my bags are packed, my checklist is completed and I am as ready as I am going to be. Our flight leaves for Fort Lauderdale at 8 in the morning, with a layover before we arrive in Peru tomorrow night. Whooooooo-hooooo, ready or not, here I go. I have 2 months to get ready for Peru! We will be cycling a circuit that runs from Arrequipa to Cusco. I have only begun my training... My biggest ride so far has been 20 miles. This weekend, the biggest yet: 44 miles. We will be riding on the Henry Hudson Trail, it runs from Freehold, NJ to Atlantic Highlands. I hope there is ice cream involved in this adventure.
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AuthorHi, I'm Reverend J, a queer+ sober wanderer, activist, writer and ordained minister. Archives
November 2020
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