Copacabana

Border crossing to Bolivia from Puno wasn't too bad, as borders go. My Peruhop bus now says Boliviahop and is a cheery green rather than bright red. But so far still on time, ish. 

The drive from Puno runs along lake Titicaca, providing an absorbing vista of small community farms, women in traditional garb leading alpacas to water, groups harvesting quinoa, fisherfolk mending nets or trawling the reed beds.

At the border we collect our luggage, exit Peru at the bottom of the hill and enter Bolivia immigration at the top. Immensely relieved to see that I have probably less luggage than most and am poossibly less breathless than most too, given the altitude always catches everyone out on a hill.

Passport stamped, watches moved on an hour, we drive on to Copacabana. Unlike Puno, this is a rather charming border town although it is permanently chilly here as evidenced by heaters in all rooms.   My hostel is fine but alas uphill. So minus Bolivian currency for a mototaxi I yet again struggle to ascend carting  my luggage.  Not amused .😞

On the plus side I have the benefit of a lake  view (after refusing the first room on offer, the broom cupboard someone had put a bed in. Perennial problem of solo travel, hosts seem so sure single women won't make a fuss. Hah!). And my neighbour is a llama, who greets me enthusiastically every time I open the door.

The neighbour

Copacabana. The  shell red roof in the bottom left corner is my hostel

Solvent post thankfully successful ATM visit I spent my first evening in Bolivia climbing the cerro calvero, a steep staircase lined with the stations of the cross and leading to a stunning sunset viewing spot.

view down to the town

not looking my best, cold, tired and hungry but enjoying sunset!

Sunset in Bolivia

Coming down was trickier than clambering up, especially in the sudden pitch dark of nightfall. A lovely Argentinan gentleman took my arm and guided me over the uneven, rock hewn, steps safely back here. The kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me.