Sophmoric Wordplay

Lake itty bitty Titicaca. Our final excursion in Peru. Sitting at over 4000 meters, it is the highest navigable lake in the world. On the ballot for the new seven natural wonders of the world, this destination was not something I was about to pass up. but then, that was never the question. What Lenay and I had been debating over the last week was how to get there. Between taking a travel agency and journeying it on my own, I felt like such a high profile destination would be a cakewalk in procuring an agency. I just wanted to cut out the middle man in Cusco. I'm cheap, really.

As it turned out, my Swiss roomate Alexia was making a detour through Puno on her way to work at Arequipa. relying on the old maxim of safety in numbers, Lenay eventually came around to risking it on our own. After all, I'm approached by twenty travel agencies in Cusco every day. There's bound to be one or two in Puno. So after Alexia's tearful goodbye to Pati and our family, we took a three sol cab ride to terminal terrestre, and left Cusco on the San Martin Line, bound for Puno.

The ride to Puno was unique for two reasons. First, this was the first time I got to enjoy the lower level of those double decker monstrosities. Eating bananas and bread while reclining in a bed like coach seat, we were all entertained with a pirate copy of Rambo 4, liberating villages somewhere far off in east Asia. After ninety minutes or so of explosions, severed limbs and fascist killing, our bus rolled to a stop at one of the regular highway checkpoints. Accustomed to these stops, no one gave it any mind. An hour later or so I could see three Peruvian cops haranguing the bus driver through my fogged up window. Lenay asked me what I thought the problem could be. Dryly responding,' oh he probably hasn't been driving with his lights on or something.' I didn't give it much thought after that. Another passenger boarded the bus ten minutes later however, and nervously informed the rest of us that the driver had indeed been driving with only one functional (of four) headlights. Well that was an ironic kick in the teeth. It goes with out saying that the next three hours were spent anxious, watching the coach's flashers flicker on with every oncoming car. I do not recommend putting your life in the hands of a Peruvian bus driver, who drives through the Andes soley by memory. For some reason it just does not seem like the best idea.