Floating Islands of Uros

Tuesday, September 20
When we open our door in the morning we are able to see across a central courtyard with a pretty garden, past a small farmyard, to a lovely view of the lake. The villagers are already busy at their daily tasks. It is all very rural and picturesque. A simple breakfast of boiled eggs, fresh (fried) bread, jam and coffee is waiting for us in the kitchen. Our hosts lead us down the hill to the dock. Everyone poses for photos, with waves and hugs, we take our leave of the community of Luquina Chico and head back across the lake for a stop at the floating islands.

About 50 reed islands, sprouting reed huts, ornately decked out with all kinds of sculptural fantasies and fronted by uniquely crafted reed boats appeared like a startling Disneyesque movie set. Brightly dotted on the islands and in the boats are the local inhabitants in brightly coloured skirts and jackets. It's a cheerful sight. The mostly Quechua population began this unusual style of living for practical reasons, subsisting on fishing and farming on the nearby mainland - today their business is mostly tourism, and they engage in it with gusto. There are plenty of other tourist boats around each one headed to a different island. Somehow or other, our guide Percy has pre-selected an island where a welcome committee is waiting to greet us. Each island is a small community with an elected leader; at this island it is a woman and she assisted in her duties by her husband. With Percy as interpreter, they explain some of the island customs and demonstrate how the floating islands are made. The island ladies line up and sing to us ending their little show with "row, row, row your boat" together with hand signals, like kids do in kindergarten. I doubt if any of them really know the meaning of the words. But its sweet and we applaud happily. After this we are invited to visit the living quarters.

Two by two we are led off by a different family to see their reed home. Mostly this turns out just to be a chance to sell us the goods that they supposedly make on the island; craft work of all kinds. The sales pitch is very direct and escaping without at least one purchase is impossible. Fortunately we find a couple of things we like. Business over, we are ushered outside. I am disappointed that we don't get a geniune tour of their tiny hut. The groups clambers onto one of the ceremonial-looking reed boats and we are rowed by two of the islanders for a short trip around the islands. These boats are just for tourist show; the locals use simpler row boats and also zip around in motor boats.
Back on our own boat, Manuel has laid out a picnic lunch which we eat as we head back to Puno. At the Hotel Italia, we are reunited with our luggage and valuables that have been stored for us. Tonight at dinner, Manuel has decided we should be introduced to the local delicacy of roasted guinea pig. The cute, cuddly little animal that we usually think of as a house pet is served, head and all, crispy and spread eagled on a platter. We share one amongst a group of us. There's not much meat to it, but the taste is okay. There is lively folkloric dancing to entertain us and introduce us to some of the many dances of the area.
And just for Alice, I have to mention that this is the evening that the apple incident took place. This was the first of several silly moments that had us in tears with laughter - I think the altitude was effecting us!