For a while I had been unsure of how a Christmas on the other side of the world, away from family/friends etc would feel. Of course it would be different to spend it alone after being used to a 2-3 day "bender" of food, drink and quality company back home. The journey to Copacabana, a small town on the shore of Lake Titicaca was interesting to say the least. Especially after it was broken midway into a boat journey across one stretch of water to an opposing town. The size and structure of these tiny "barges" (constructed with planks of wood, a motor and not much else, not sure how they stayed afloat) made me feel on edge and ready to abandon bus at any moment, but as we chugged along slowly I grew more confident that we would make it to land.

In Copacabana I was hungry and went against my beliefs and ate at a touristy restaurant (it had been so long since I had tasted curry). The Dahl was a welcome change, but I think they should definitely leave curry to the Indians/British etc as there was no flavour to be found. It was time to Skype me family and see what I had been missing out on over Christmas. (It was Christmas Day in Australia. Sure enough, there they all were, abound in Bon-Bon hats and enough food/drink for the next 3 weeks. It did make me miss home, but maybe only for those few days. I retired to my double bed (a rare fortune in Bolivia) and fell asleep to the sound of fireworks and the beginning of Christmas celebrations (how sad).

Merry Christmas to me! I woke the next morning for breakfast and headed straight into town to check out the huge Cathedral and church. It's funny, South Americans in general don't really celebrate Christmas, however there were a lot of cars draped in flower petals with people getting their photos taken in front of them (must be a thing here). I met a cool Brazilian guy (Enedino) and after struggling through the Portuguese/Spanish "brazanish" (he liked to change from Spanish to Portugese) we hung out and ate a good plate of quinoa soup and grilled trout, and were on our way, aboard a small vessel to Isla del Sol on Lake Titicaca, a significant location as part of the Inca culture. The boat ride gave me an idea of just how big the lake is. It is not possible to see across the other side, just a view of deep blue (cold) water as far as you can see, with the odd island thrown into the mix. We arrived on the northern side of the island and were immediately smothered by the paparazzi (local kids) offering hostels and other lucrative services. "Nah we'll be right" and headed to the highest point of the island for dat view, past the donkeys, cows, pigs, chickens and guinea pigs that roamed the island. We made a trek to the nearby ruins, about an hour each way but the altitude (3800m) and big, strong sun made It difficult work. The view of LT (we are on abbreviating terms now) below the trail and surrounding peaks were spectacular however, and my Brazilian chum was always down to throw up a few poses for las chicas, so maybe we took a little longer.

The ruins turned out to be not so much (possibly weathered more so than myself at this stage, not sure) but a sight none the less. But we were rewarded luckily by some skinny dipping "gringas" down below at the jetty. Now I'm not much of a "camera guy", but I've never been so stoked until then to know someone with a camera capable of 25x zoom. It was definitely a kodak moment (he had a Canon). Using the ruins as our fort, like a filmer shooting an elusive creature in a David Attenborough doco, it made me feel like a school kid again, peering over the cubicles in the girls bathrooms, but that never happened, I swear.
The weather changed from hot to cold in a matter of seconds, and we changed to a fast paced walk to make it back to town before night (there are not many lights after dark). We ate in a small, informal restaurant and hauled ass to the lodge in the violent storm, trying not to get too soaked. A much needed early night was in order.

The next day it was back on the boat to Copa. This time with a cute little family who ran riot onboard. With not much more to keep our interest we were on a bus bound for Peru, sadly, it was time to leave the surprise-filled Bolivia behind. A country blessed with a fantastically varied landscape as well as amazingly sweet yet shy people, who have kept traditions of dress, family, food and their native roots alive, a contrast (in my opinion) to that of the world around them.