Travelling to Puno. The train ride was amazing. Graeme had inadvertently booked us into 1st class on the express train and so we had luxury seats that reclined completely, received blankets and pillows and a complementary bag of snacks. I slept like a baby to the rhythm of the musical tracks and was woken in the morning by the racket of the most disconcerting music videos playing on the communal TV screen. We disembarked in Ururo and went directly to the bus terminal to purchase tickets to La Paz, which would be en-route to the border of Peru. The bus ride was pleasant enough. We are fascinated by the sales culture on the local buses. At each stop a new sales person boards the bus and very vocally advertises their wares, from snacks to educational books for the bambinos. Talk about a trapped audience. Quite unable to escape. Upon entering La Paz, it took us almost as long to reach the bus terminal as it did to travel the distance from Ururo (gross exaggeration, but makes my point). We were really glad to have been advised to give this city a miss. It is a MASSIVE city nestled in a valley and spreads up the slopes of the surrounding mountains. Quite a sight to be seen. It has three cable car lines that travel up the 3 mountain slopes that envelope the city.

Eventually we were dropped at the main bus terminal and Graeme duly started looking for a bus to Cocacobana while I looked after the luggage. He eventually went to info and was advised to take a quicker route to Peru, which would be much cheaper too. We then caught a taxi to the next local bus stop and Graeme ended up haggling with the driver who unfortunately showed 3 fingers but said twenty. I boarded the bus. Now, this was a very local bus with very local Bolivian folk going to very rural areas. It was a tight squeeze since the operators insisted on filling every seat. Graeme sat right at the back with his long legs stretching into the passageway. An old gentleman pressed himself between us and so we travelled all the way to the border. We were met by bicycle taxies who vied very aggressively for our custom. Once we had our bags we were pedalled to border control and then again across the border. Graeme had typed out a long story about the visa controversy on his translation app and showed this to the official on the Bolivian side only to be told, "It is good". So he will most certainly be writing to the Bolivian authorities when we get home. Getting into Peru was a breeze, and we felt a change in the ambience of the country as soon as we crossed the line. The people are less oppressed and very much more relaxed. I made a beeline for the loos once we had booked our seats on the minibus to Puno. Fortunately, I missed the argument between Graeme and the bicycle taxi man when it came to his rates. This time Graeme came out on top. I had to run back from the loo to get on the bus in time to leave for Puno. Another very tight taxi ride for 2 hours. Puno was reached after dark.