After leaving the high altitude shores of Lake Titicaca in Puno, we boarded a bus bound for Copacabana, Bolivia. Copacabana is a curious little town part backpacker haven, part religious pilgrimage site. But for us, it was a place to pause. We skipped the chaos of the main streets and instead found a quiet spot by the lake, soaking in the peacefulness away from the bustle. The food was simple but delicious, and best of all, ridiculously cheap. It was the kind of place where you could sit back, breathe in the mountain air, and just exist for a little while.
The next afternoon, we packed up again and caught the evening bus to La Paz. What should have been a fairly standard journey turned into something far more memorable.
A few hours into the trip, we reached the Strait of Tiquina, a narrow waterway that separates the two parts of Lake Titicaca. This is where things took an unexpected turn. Instead of a bridge, buses and larger vehicles cross the strait on massive wooden rafts yes, actual wooden rafts, bobbing along the water, carrying fully loaded buses.
We were told to disembark and take a small passenger boat across while the bus made its own precarious journey. As we watched our bus creak its way onto the raft, the guide casually remarked, “If the raft doesn’t sink, your belongings will be waiting for you on the other side!” A comforting thought, indeed.
The crossing itself was short but surreal. The raft, powered by a tiny outboard motor, wobbled across the water while we nervously watched from our much more stable passenger boat. Thankfully, our bus did make it safely across, and we continued our journey.
As we rattled through the Bolivian countryside late into the night, the road twisted and turned through the mountains. Then, as we descended into La Paz, the view was nothing short of magical. The city is built inside a vast basin, with countless lights twinkling like stars on the steep hillsides.
Despite it being 10 PM, the city was alive. Markets still bustled, food stalls sent plumes of steam into the cool night air, and colectivos (shared minibuses) zoomed past as if rush hour never ended. La Paz doesn’t seem to sleep it just hums with energy at all hours, far too much for a tired Englishman who could only think about a bed..
We finally arrived at our accommodation, exhausted. The journey had been anything but ordinary. I mean where else do you see floating buses on wooden rafts and the breathtaking cityscape that are so amazing.
As I pen this out we only have a short time La Paz, and we but we cannot wait to see what else this chaotic, vibrant city has in store.
