Due to the sore legs, and continuing to hobble like a granny we stayed in Cusco to recover; mostly as we couldn’t move from our bottoms. After a few days we were back at yoga, Topitop, and in the pub and therefore diagnosed we were probably better. So, we decided to venture out and see some of the countryside under our own steam. We hired a motorbike (Suzuki, DR 650 for those interested) and off we went. Well, we got a bit lost in the one way system of Cusco first, but eventually off we went.
We had a great day, avoiding llamas (or Alpacas still not quite sure the difference) and seeing people going about their day to day lives. Including a massive celebration of the opening of a temporary bridge, and as always some amazing hats. We will never cease to be amazed by the hats and outfits that local people wear day to day – be it in town or working the fields in big skirts and heels!
We replaced our sore legs for rather sore bottoms, we managed to get lost again on our way back in to town, and stopped by the police twice! After all that we headed out for a Friday night curry. We made the fatal error of curry feast first and so the pub after was a short affair – needing to get home and nurse very full bellies!
We had planned to leave Saturday for Bolivia but didn’t quite pull our fingers out. We, instead, managed to eat burgers – Gio opting for a rather strange tasting Alpaca and Quinoa burger, and go to the pub to watch Chelsea – another mistake considering the result! We at least managed to buy our bus tickets and psyched ourselves up for a 12 hour ride to Bolivia the coming Monday.
We dragged ourselves out of bed at 4.30 (this was getting to be a habit!) and headed to the bus station. We then spent the next hour or so looking for our bus. Had anyone seen it – yes just over there, will be here soon, what a morning bus to Bolivia there is no such thing! Eventually, at about 8am the guy who sold us the ticket turned up. Apparently a problem with our bus. Mmmm. So, seeing as we were there and packed we hopped on a bus to Puno – still the Peru side of the border but close enough for now.
Turns out this wasn’t the greatest of plans, the journey was fine, long, but okay but the meal we had on arrival at Puno was bad. We thought it was bad before Gio started being sick, poor thing, after a full night of it we realised quite how bad. So it was a very fragile Gio who was led across the border to Bolivia and to the lovely little town of Copacabana on the glittering lake Titicaca.
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