Day 53: Isla del Sol

The early hours of this morning proved eventful. From 1am to 6am, several local bands were marching round my part of the island playing the same tune over and over (pic). At first I scowled and tried to sleep and waited for them to stop. Then I thought, well, if you travel, you embrace new experiences, so I got dressed and went out for a walk at 3am and met and talked to some of them. The prevention of anyone sleeping is an annual tradition to celebrate 2 Nov, the day for honouring their ancestors. I hope their ancestors like out-of-tune tunes played very loud in the middle of the night.


So, they go from house to house, playing their one tune, although perhaps it was a different one, I couldn't tell. The people in each house they visit give them food and drink (pic). Perhaps this is to say thank you for honouring their ancestors. Or perhaps it's because when they're eating, they're not playing.


During the day, a little blearily, I hiked up to the north of the island with a well-travelled German couple who I've been travelling with for a few days (hallo, Mirjam und Tobi!). The scenery was excellent (pic), and they told me a very funny story about a child at an aquarium. Ask me about it when I see you. I think I might pass this one off as my own.


We had this sort of view for three hours (pic). Imagine it accompanied by good travel stories told by amusing, intelligent, accomplished people. I told some stories, too.

Finally we arrived at Challampampa, the village at the north end of the island, and I took a boat back to lively Copacabana on the mainland. On the journey back, one outboard motor failed. The helmsman, a local man in a trilby, tried for twenty minutes to restart it. He had to stop steering to do so, and the boat drifted a bit, so one of the passengers laconically took over. He steered us a little haphazardly but effectively, and eventually the stubborn motor restarted and the helmsman got us back to port at full speed. Safety is high priority for these local boats: when they are siphoning petrol on board from one canister to another, they ask the passengers smoking next to them not to drop ash in it.