Extreme Beauty: Lake Titicaca

The world’s highest navigable lake, the lake with the most childishly humorous name, the most extremely beautiful landscape – Lake Titicaca is superlative in every sense.

It was a pleasingly short journey from La Paz and I arrived in Copacabana in the early afternoon, with enough time to find a hotel room with lake views, have a stroll around the pretty town and sit at a cafe, chatting to fellow travellers and taking in the view.

We talked, drank and gazed until sunset, at which point, we took some photos and continued with our lazy non-activity.

The following morning, it was an early start, which made up for the idleness of the previous day. I wandered the few yards from my hotel to the pontoon and boarded a boat bound for Isla del Sol, one of the main islands on the lake. I daydreamed and gazed at the water – which looked more like a sea than any concept I had of a lake.

Soon enough, we arrived at the island and I was immediately confronted with the harsh fact everyone had failed to mention: that it is basically a sheer mountain in the middle of the lake and that the village is at the top. I did the Inca Trail just a few days after, I’d hiked in the Andes before, but this was the single toughest burst of hiking I did during my whole trip.

It was a relentless forty-minute slog to the village, perched high on the island. I cursed and panted my way up, but when I got there and took in the views, I soon forgot my resentment. In fact, I was so overawed that I decided I may as well continue to the summit of the island, which was not much further.

It was well worth the extra effort and I rewarded myself with the meagre picnic I’d brought with me, munching with great satisfaction.

However, it was at this point that I discovered something about myself. The views can be as spectacular as anything, but I am still not great in my own company for very long. Other travellers had told me that staying for a night on the island was a ‘must’, but after approximately half an hour of looking at the view, I began to panic. I didn’t want to stay here; I’d basically exhausted the diversions of the island and boats only departed at 3pm each day. The thought of staying for another almost full day was one I didn’t wish to contemplate.

The fact is, if I’m on my own, I like to be somewhere busy, bustling, with plenty to do and plenty of people to meet. I realized I didn’t have to stay here  just because other people told me I should, so I gathered my things and set off back down the island. Ridiculously, I felt a little rebellious.

I got on the 3pm boat and after a blissful sail across the lake, I arrived back in Copacabana. It’s hardly a big place, but it felt like a metropolis after the island. The landscapes were beyond beautiful, but at that specific point in my trip, I needed civilization.

That same night, I was on a bus bound for Cuzco, Peru and another adventure was about to begin. The sun set on my second and final day at Lake Titicaca and I said farewell to a place which is both beautiful and extreme.

What’s the most extreme landscape you’ve encountered? Have you gone against popular opinion while travelling?