I got up early at 7am to catch my ferry back to the mainland. However as I stood waiting at the dock, 8 Aymara Indians ran past me, jumped in a nearby boat, engine started up it and it sailed off. I was left bemused and was then approached by an American hippy from Hawai. She spoke to me in Spanish and said that tourists can only get in on if there aren't enough locals. Great! I spoke to a Canadian hippy who told me if there was enough of us, an old man would take us back to Copacabana in his old boat. We waited and sure enough, hippies emerged from the surrouding undergrowth in their scruffy clothes, dirty dreads, ring piercings, Bob Marley caps and little wooden cups of mate. I felt out of place as everyone was a hippy apart from me. We waited for a while and the old man came dawdling out of his hut. It took nearly 3 hours and we all nearly choked on the exhaust fumes coming from the old motor. Finally we reached Copacabana and I walked past the Bolivian naval base which consists of a few soldiers standing proudly around a few huts (they don't actually have any boats). I got back to my hsotel and had a shower. The owner came to the door and gave me my watch (I'd lost it a few days earlier) she said it was found behind the toilet. It was another beautiful day; blue skies, sunshine and a gentle breeze. Beata left yesterday and is now on the island today. The island is really special to the indigenous people here as they believe their first emperor rose from a rock on the northern tip of the island. The local speciality here is trucha criolla. They have one of the biggest trouts in the world apparently (an old man was desperate to tell me on the return journey from the island). Unfortunately none of the bars are open as recently a man was stabbed in the neck and died in a local bar. The local council has banned any bars opening for a month. I sat on my lovely little balcony basking in the sun and heard a group of English guys (most wearing English football tops) try and book a room. It was really pathetic, they were like: "señorita uno room for 5 guys por favor and how much? then a louder "how much?". I find it staggering the number of people (generally English) who haven't bothered their arse to learn even basic Spanish; it's just rude. I walked down to the internet cafe and checked my emails, browsed the web for an hour. I also put a bet on Barcelona would beat Arsenal. I then went to the nearby Manka Uta restaurant that was showing the Champions League Final. I had trout what else? I ordered a few beers and settled down to watch the match. Then I hear familiar loud voices..oh no! Yes, the same linguistically challenged 5 appeared and ordered lots of beer. They started cheering Arsenal on. I was supporting Barcelona for 3 reasons (1) I stood to earn 30 pounds on my bet (2) Celtic get automatic entry to Champions League in September (3) I love to see English teams get beaten! Ok I'm going to go on a bit of a footie rant now so bear with me. The match started brightly with Barca and Arsenal having some good chances. Lehman, the Arsenal keeper got sent off, easy street the rightful champions will now win handsomely. However this didn't happen. Campbell scored, the 5 guys roared and things weren't looking good. One of them shouts enthusiastically: "I hate Arsenal but there's 30,000 Englishmen there, you gotta support them!". Next they started gushing over Campbell and Coe and the inevitable question was posed to the other nationalities sitting near them; "Do you think England will win the World Cup?". Another Englishman pipes up: "best chance since 66". Hang on, one object springs to mind; broken record player. We reach half-time and the 5 are jubilant. The second half commences, only one team are really playing and thats Barca yet from the 5 its: "Arsenal are playing excellent counter attack football". Em, yeah if you call everyone behind the ball frantically chasing "counter" fine then. Henrik Larsson comes on and a German guy says: "He's a great player, maybe change the game" prophetic words indeed. However from the 5: "Really? well he scored some goals in Scotland but I mean John Hartson scores goals up there, it's not saying much!". Haha..what happens Larsson changes the match with two assists. I sat smugly clapping as the 5 walked out whining about the referee. Footie rant over!! I walked into a nearby restaurant after sitting in the garden of the restaurant sipping my beer in the sunshine. I had trout agaiin for dinner and then went back to my hostel. I bought a Coca-Cola glass bottle from a nearby shop. I don't know why but it always tastes better from a glass bottle. I then went to bed around 10pm really exhausted.