from 16.06 .: Full on Lake Titicaca - 3,800 m

16.06 .: My last breakfast at the hotel. The morning before I had observed that the other guests were served delicious fried eggs - not me! This morning I want to know and look up the translation in Google Translate in the elevator and later order huevos fritos - DOS por favor! It works. No one comes with a receipt for me to sign, they simply belong to breakfast. At the start the scooter is reluctant - the altitude affects it too - but I know it can handle it. And after a few tries, the engine starts. The acceleration is rather mediocre, but luckily I still manage to get away from the traffic lights a little earlier than the mototaxis and other cars. Juliaca cannot be compared with Arequipa. I only have to drive on a few bumpy roads, but I am once again annoyed by the speed bumps and the drains at the intersections, and by the potholes. Finally, I am on the outskirts and leave Juliaca behind. Puno, on Lake Titicaca, is the destination. The Stuttgarters - Rolf and Sandra - have told me their location outside of Puno via WhatsApp. I still have no plan. I want to see Lake Titicaca and take a boat trip to the floating reed islands. It's only 50 km - about an hour and a half. After the next bend, I see the dark blue Lake Titicaca and the city of Puno, which has carved itself into the almost vertical mountains. The amazement and respect for the architectural achievement of building houses on such steep slopes are quickly replaced by the thought: I will never be able to go up there! If the hostels are located there... even if they should be asphalt roads. On the map, it is not possible to see where the hostels are located geographically. I can only concentrate on the city center of the 125,000-inhabitant city - formerly known as Ciudad de Plata, the City of Silver. I don't feel like going through the city again and drive through the city to the place about 20 km away where Sandra and Rolf have set up their home with their dog Bruno. I let my laziness take over and decide that I want to stay here. To drive back to Puno with the risk of struggling up the steep streets to the hostel...? No! The mountains around us are also covered with grass tufts, but they are more like hills that remind me of Tuscany. The lake gives the light a special clarity and makes the contours of the slightly higher mountains stand out particularly sharply. Looks like a grand hotel, but Rolf complains about the narrow arched windows... The hostel is a multi-story, stand-alone, whitewashed house whose architect must have had a preference for narrow arched windows. I am welcomed very nicely by Sandra and Rolf, their dog Bruno fulfills his duty as a guard dog and seems to have forgotten that we met at the Peru border less than a week ago. Only when I bribe him with dog treats does his soul get bought and he becomes affectionate. That's how dogs are... The negotiations with the hostel owner lady are somewhat difficult. The currency on the price list shown to me by the receptionist is in dollars, and I'm supposed to pay $16 per night. Sandra and Rolf overhear this and say that they are paying 37 soles per night for their car, which is a little over 10 €. This livens up the negotiations and after a phone call with her boss, we agree on 25 soles, which is just under 7 € - including wifi usage. I do not stay in the hostel itself, but in a room that leads to the garden, with shower and toilet in separate buildings, like on a campsite. My room is hidden behind the Defender I am invited to a delicious vegetable soup. The SUV is well equipped, nothing is missing! In the afternoon, we take a walk along the lake with the dog Bruno, but at some point we are stopped by marshy ground. Such a lake has a very calming effect. We see Peruvian women in colorful skirts and wide-brimmed hats threshing corn and laying straw on the field to protect it from the cold night. We spend the very cold evening in my room, which has been warmed by the sun, and are surprised that it is only half past nine when we finish the evening. 17.06. Rolf tells us about a hostel that is about 90 km away and whose family has contacts with the Uros people living on the reed islands. These are an indigenous population group, with about 2000 people living here on Lake Titicaca. Only 200 still live like their ancestors on the floating reed islands and mainly sustain themselves through fishing in the lake, selling colorful blankets, and the tips they receive from tourists when they take pictures with them. I am not prepared for camping and am invited to a breakfast with scrambled eggs and toasted rolls. Like in a hotel, I can choose between Earl Grey tea and regular black tea. Not in the form of tea bags, but as loose tea leaves! We are quite exhausted from the altitude. Every action that requires even the slightest movement requires an immense amount of oxygen, which is only available in limited form here, and always requires breaks. In the afternoon, we take a walk - actually a hike to nearby Inca ruins, which require an ascent from 3,800m to just under 4,000m. We rely on the navigation system, as the paths are not visible to us. It is a laborious climb that slowly takes us up. The Inca ruins - truth or marketing...? I am not particularly impressed. Is this a marketing gimmick or are there really about 900 old ruins that are said to have been built in the form of loosely stacked field stones? The landscape around us reminds me of Tuscany. Agriculture is practiced in the valleys, and tufted grass grows on the terraced hills, which is kept short by sheep. In the backlight, I see the sharply jagged rocks on the mountain ridges. Tuscany? My next destination with the Vespa One of them reminds me of Goethe, who, protected by a blanket and a wide hat, looks down into the valley (Goethe in Normandy). The shadows become noticeably longer and we have to start our way back. This time we find the official path for the descent. For dinner, Sandra spoils us with pesto pasta and fresh salad from the market in Arequipa. Goethe in Normandy? We want to brave the cold and sit in my room for dinner, which has stored the sun's warmth during the day. It is noticeable that there are still many adobe houses in this area, and I believe that my room is also built of adobe and that we can benefit from it for a while. But then it gets cold and once again the perfect equipment of the two Stuttgarters shows. There is a gas heater that they brought with them from Spain and that they place under the dining table so that it warms them from below. Because central heating is also rather rare there. Unfortunately, it stops working after about 10 minutes. We don't know why, but later we learn that it has to do with the cold and the low humidity up here. 18.06. Today is Sunday. I feel more motivated, continue writing my blog, and work on the carburetor. Maybe the Vespa will be faster in the suit if I help it along with a wire, despite having already reduced the jet size. Today, we have a breakfast with lots of delicious fruit. On the one hand, I really enjoy being pampered, but on the other hand, I feel somewhat uncomfortable in the role of just taking. The plan for today is to withdraw money and do some shopping in Puno. The Defender is not equipped with a third seat in its capacity as a travel vehicle, so Sandra has to lay down with Bruno on the unfolded mattress behind the driver's seat. We come to a police and customs checkpoint and just in time, she hides under the blanket. A great feat given the temperatures. We are stopped. Rolf has his documents ready, including his insurance policy for Peru. This situation reminds me of the border controls in the GDR, where people fleeing the GDR used to hide under the car. We get away without any problems. Rolf adapts perfectly to Peruvian traffic conditions, honking like the others, driving like the others, and braking in time like the others. We find a shady spot in the city center, as Bruno will guard the Defender. We take care of our to-dos, and I'm glad that I can contribute to the shopping. I am still used to the chaos in Arequipa and am surprised that everything is very orderly here.
In the late afternoon, with the help of a pharmacist, we find a restaurant that spoils us with alpaca fillets, salmon trout, and shrimp risotto. The selection is facilitated by photos of the artistically presented food creations, but the variety of the menu requires a little more time. We order two of the appetizers presented and have three plates brought to us. The Chilean white wine - it was supposed to be a Peruvian one - is served chilled and after pouring the first glass, it goes back into the cooler box at our request. We are so impressed by what is served to us that we have to take pictures of everything. The waiter smiles quietly to himself - he has probably never experienced this before. Something reminds me of the cathedral in Posadas, Argentina. Maybe the same lighting designer was at work here? More sober and the portal is open
We sit in my room in the evening and drink a red wine that has maintained the temperature stored in my sleeping bag during our absence. The Spanish gas heater is once again giving up after 10 minutes, we have gotten used to that, and besides, it's not that cold outside anymore... Tomorrow our paths will separate...