Agriculture is hard backbreaking work out here with limited returns, so tourism is seen as a very lucrative, and much easier on the body, option. And everybody wants to get in on the action! Amantani island was no different, and understandably so. Since they are further away from Puno, they host visitors in their homes, feed them, engage with them and show them how they live when the visitors pack up and go home. To ensure that any income is fairly distributed, a roster system has been set-up for communities and the host families, so equality is much sought after here. Again, there is a win-win for all involved.

Elson collected us in traditional garb and took us to his home. There we met Elsa cooking in the smoky wood burning warmed kitchen complete with soot covered chimney, pots and pans and stove. After the quaint little bedroom we would sleep in, the kitchen was a surprise. But it quickly became clear that this was the centre of the home and small holding. After a change back into t-shirt and trousers, Elson joined us for lunch. Around Elsa's feet was little Melinda wrapped in swaddling blankets and very cautious about these white faces in her world. Fernando was far more at ease and happily had us playing with him, inside and out in the little fields.

With our extensive Spanglish, we managed to hear all about their lifestyle, what they grew when and why and every other aspect of their lifestyle and outlooks. Simple, rustic and seemingly content; and although their possessions were not numerous, Mom and Dad lit up with love at the antics of their little ones as we played together. Although words were limited, it didn't mean we couldn't all communicate. Laughing at each other and with each other goes a long way to bridge the gaps when words fail!

Since we had been at this high altitude for a good long while now (the lake surface is at 3800m AMSL), we were happy to walk up to one of the mountain tops on the island and watch the sun set from an ancient Tiahaucano temple. The Tiahuacano came before the Incas who absorbed them into their new Empire and many of their temples were used well into the Inca times.

Pachamama is the name given to Mother Earth, the Mother Goddess from which all else comes. Without Pachamama, life would not go on. The temple on the mountain top above where we were staying is still considered a highly significant and sacred place for all the islanders. Every new year on 15 January, the temple is opened to the worshipful and certain rituals and rights are absorbed in strict accordance with custom. The further from the lake shore you come, the less influence of western religion there is. Beneath your feet, with the sun setting beneath you, the immensity of the lake around you, the island criss-crossed in terraces and ancient paths and the temple wall warm behind your back, you can almost feel the slow pulse of Pachamama beneath you.

With darkness and night comes the bitter cold and after supper, we are dressed up in Elson and Elsa's heavy traditional clothing and taken to the community dance across the fields, rivers and paddocks to the local school hall. The band strikes up and the dancing begins! Those little old ladies and starry eyed girls on one side have been eyeing up the western males on this side and moving in for the proverbial kill! As are the local men are eyeing up the western women!

"Quick Ing! Let's dance! Just do what the locals do! Shake your bodee!"

The next morning we said our heartfelt thank yous and good-byes and headed off to Tahile. It didn't take long for Amantani to disappear behind us. Not for any other reason than that the heavens opened and the heavy rain obscured everything around us and flattened the little chop that was riding the water! Shoo, that was close!

Little did we know that we needed to walk up the side of Tahile to the main community village square, meet the guide and walk to the other harbour with a lunch stop on the way. Rain or no rain! Nothing like a little rote learning and it application! But rain never hurt anybody, especially when you have the right rain gear. But other members of the group looked very miserable as they realised they needed to walk in the rain, at high altitude in what little water proof clothing they had!

Tahile islanders are well known for their weaving, particularly that of the hats that denote men's status in the community. The hats that they wear look similar to Santa's, but the colour and the way of wearing it are all important. Single boys and men have the mainly white ones. While married men have the mainly red ones. Wearing this way, or that mean one thing or another. It is an effective way of communicating intentions (singletons wear flopping over one ear indicates that I want/need/desire/am desperate for a girlfriend. Wearing it another way and you advertise that you are off the market and my-girlfriend-will-kick-me-in-the-family-jewels-if-I-don't-wear-it-this-way). Married men's styles denote their leadership status in the community. A panorama hat worn over the woven Santa hat, and you are a real mover and shaker!

Since we learnt all of this while having quinoua (a western superfood) soup and Lake Titicaca trout washed down by muno (a locally grown herb freshly plucked) tea all the while overlooking the lake and watching the comings and goings of the locals. A slow stroll down the Inca stairs to the waiting boat and lunch could be slept off as the we slowly chugged back to Puno port in the mellow mid afternoon sun!