Andean Explorer

We were about to embark on a two-night train journey. I have always liked the idea of sleeper trains. Rushing through the night while tucked up in bed. Diane and I took a sleeper from Innsbruck to Hamburg a few years ago. It was great fun. Essentially for motorcyclists. You load your bike on the back of the train and then get in a little couchette. One bench seat and a small closet with a sink in it. Later, the guard comes round to turn the seat into bunk beds. We brought some food and a bottle of wine. In the morning the bunk went away and the guard appeared with coffee and croissant. At Hamburg we all disembarked. The train was turned around so that the bikes could be ridden off the back. Saves a two-day autobahn slog from Austria to Northern Germany.

This train in Peru however was a very different matter. Check-in was in the hotel bar and the first thing that happened was that, despite being only mid-morning, we were offered champagne and snacks. It would have been churlish to refuse, especially on boxing day. Our luggage was whisked away and a little later we were taken to the station. Onboard, in the first of two bars, we were introduced to the train and then taken to our compartment. Each car had two compartments containing beds, chairs and a bathroom with a shower. I have been in smaller hotel rooms. The whole train is an echo of a different, earlier age. A fantasy of sumptuous travel and attentive service. It felt like we had stepped back in time. Fortunately, on the practical side, everything worked and was spotlessly clean.

The train rattled off into the countryside. We had a pleasant lunch and then sat out in the rear car for a while. The back of this is open to the air. Ideal for photography and a fun place to watch Peru rolling past. It was not a fast train. There was plenty of time to watch the villages and fields of llamas. Mid afternoon we paused to look at some ruins. These were grain storage built by the Incas. Not the most fascinating but it was nice to stretch our legs.

As the afternoon went on, we climbed higher in the Andes. The scenery became more rugged and the settlements more sparse. Early evening we stopped at the train’s highest point. 4,430 m. There is a little station here and some locals selling craftwork. Back on the train we had an excellent dinner. I wore my new alpaca scarf in an attempt to look more stylish. The train rolled on towards Puno while, back in the privacy of our cabin, I indulged in one of the highlights of the trip, a shower in a moving train. Snug in bed we listened to the clacking of the wheels on the track as we fell asleep.

Get up at five in the morning and come to watch the sunrise over Lake Titicaca, they said. We did. I figured we could go back to bed and get another hour in before breakfast. It was dark when we got up. The train was parked on a pier right at the edge of the lake, so it was just a short walk to the water. At 3,800 m, Lake Titicaca is often called the world’s highest navigable lake. What they mean by this is that larger, commercial boats can sail on it. The sunrise was pretty good but more importantly, it felt like a special location. An hour later we did indeed head back to bed.

Much later, after breakfast, we headed out in boats to visit the floating islands. The islands are built by the Uros people although it is not completely clear why. Possibly to escape the Incas, or the Spanish, or other, more warlike tribes. Whatever, these days they are built to attract tourists. The islands are made of totora reeds which grow abundantly in the area. Although and island can last several decades it requires constant maintenance and replacement of the reeds that rot in the water. On the islands they build houses and reed boats. Each of the 120 or so islands is home to between two and six families.

When you arrive, they do a little dance, sing songs, show you inside the houses and try to sell you craftwork. Look closely and you can spot modern influences. Solar panels, electric lights, TV sets. Apparently, it is now possible to rent a straw room via Airbnb. We stood around politely with the rest of the group and were genuinely impressed with the reed boats. They seemed quite sturdy and stable.

Lake Titicaca has been shrinking over the past decade as successive droughts take their toll. At the same time, the increasing numbers of people living around the lake is causing problem with pollution, especially in the Puno area. We were warned about drinking the water or eating raw food.

Lunch was on the island of Taquile, population 2,000. When spoken, this sounded a lot like Tequilla, but sadly there was no connection. The men of Taquile are famous for knitting. In fact, it is how they prove their manhood. A well knitted item is essential when wooing a bride. It is only the men that knit usually starting at a very early age. The work produces a very tight knit item. We saw some hats that were probably waterproof so dense were the stiches. Also, bags, shawls, toys, socks, gloves and all manner of things. Women get to do the weaving.

We had a walk on the beach and got back to the little restaurant just in time for some more singing and dancing. Vegetarians are not really catered for so we ended up with some fried eggs and rice. Then it was the 45 km trip back to Puno where pretty much everyone fell asleep on the boat.

The train left late afternoon by rolling straight through the marketplace. This was quite a remarkable sight. Everybody stepped out of the way to allow the train to pass within inches. People seated at tables adjusted their seats. Stallholders pulled back the awnings of their stalls. Children and chickens hopped off the line. Then, as soon as the train has passed, they all crowded back again. The train passed through the massing throngs like a finger drawn across a plate of gravy. It would have been enough to give and Health and Safety officer a heart attack but nothing went wrong. Nobody got hurt. No produce got damaged. Before long we were in the suburbs and then out again into the countryside as night fell.

Five o’clock next morning just three of us were up to watch the sunrise. Diane never even tried to get out of bed. Just told me to be quiet when I came back in. On balance, it was probably not worth the effort. I got a couple of interesting photos but the sky was overcast and we never actually saw the sun. It was interesting to see where the train had parked for the night. We were between two lakes with a handful of settlements dotted around. Here the people are mostly busy with managing shellfish in small, netted off areas. As the pre-dawn light began to lift the darkness I could watch them coming out in small boats to check their nets.

Later, after an excellent breakfast, the train was pushing on into the Andes and we could see volcanoes looming in the distance. A few llamas dotted the landscape and also some vicuña, wild mountain brothers to the llama. Just after crossing an excellent bridge of rivetted ironwork, we stopped to visit some cave paintings. This involved a short trek down into a gorge. A local guide unlocked a steel fence and proudly presented the paintings. Apparently, these are six thousand years old. Cynically, they looked to me like something some kids might have scratched on the wall one weekend when they were a bit bored. This is probably why I have never aspired to being an archaeologist.

Back on the train we travelled for another hour or so across the increasingly desolate landscape before arriving at the km 97 marker. Here we were told to get off. Not everyone, just me, Diane and a handful of others. The rest of the train would arrive in Arequipa by early evening. We, however, were off to another Belmond hotel. Las Casitas hotel is set in a little oasis to the south of Chivay. In the meantime, we had been dropped off in the middle of nowhere. A single building in the otherwise barren semi-desert of the altiplano. Fortunately, the sense of abandonment did not last long. Cars and minibuses arrived to collect us. Twenty minutes of dirt track took us to a tarmac road and then on to Chivay.

On the way we passed through a national park area and saw many vicuña. Also a few ponds with some sort of black duck. The road rose over a pass at 4,900 m. This is Diane’s altitude record. We stopped at the viewpoint from where you can see multiple volcanoes. This is also the site of Peru’s highest toilet, a magnificent stone built building where, for a modest fee, you can also wash your hands out of a bucket. From here came the long descent to Chivay and our hotel. Beyond that lay the formidable Colca Canyon.