After sadly parting ways with Phil and Bianca, we took off for Bolivia. Being the super travelers that they are, P and B left us with many pearls of wisdom about their adventures in Bolivia. Thanks guys!!
We took off on yet another overnight bus headed for Copacabana, Bolivia, just across the border from Peru. We set off for this leg our our trip with several hundred US dollars in our wallets, knowing that there is a $135 entrance fee for Americans – only Americans. We began to notice a general theme against United States citizens in the country. Don't they realize that Bush isn't president anymore?
Anyways, as we cruised along in the shaky bus towards the border, the bus personnel began to circulate around and notice that we were the only American on board. They asked us about the visa 'requirements' and if we possessed our necessary copy of our passport, copy of a credit card, proof of yellow-fever vaccination, $135 US dollars, a signed release stating that we would surrender our first born child, etc. Of course, since we were never planning on traveling to Bolivia we had none of the required docs, just purely the cold hard American cash that these border agents were slipping into their pockets. The bus company employees seemed okay with this explanation. Perfect. As it turns out, so are the Bolivian border patrol agents.
Although the visa costs $135 and even our state department website confirms that info, the visa itself clearly states that it only costs $100US. Busted, even though we still paid. Someone is making a killing on this scam. We quickly made copies of our passports, ignored the request for a credit card copy and paid $10 extra a piece to make up for our lack of vaccinations. We're such chumps.
We set our sights for Copacabana singing the song in our heads....'her name was Lola, she was a showgirl'. It only seemed right that each and every time someone said Copacabana it was to the tune of the song.
Once we were there we realized there was no ATM to be found until we got to La Paz, approximately 3 days later. We changed all the money that we could scrape together...about $60US for the next three days, from which we needed to pay for lodging, food, beer, bus tickets, boat tickets (to and from Isla del Sol) and other necessities. It sounds like so much more when you put it into Bolivianos...we had OVER $400! We definitely felt the pinch, but once we discovered the little cart ladies who sold lightly fried trout with a pile of potatoes and rice for $10 Bolivianos we knew we would make it. But that was after our Isla del Sol excursion. We're getting ahead of ourselves, they were that good. Hanna might become a little cart girl when she gets back to the states. Seems like a better career path than social work and plus, Byron wouldn't look that good in a skirt.
So, back to Isla. The trip over there was quite silly. I suppose they wanted to make sure that we could see every nook and cranny of the landscape since the ferry never got much faster than the boat equivalent of a doggy paddle. The views were quite stunning as we sputtered across the highest navigable lake in the world. Cliffs dove into the lake and every turn uncovered more and more natural beauty. When we happened upon Isla del Sol, we encountered a huge celebration. The entire island (less than 600 people) was in the 'port' area having a great time. Some even brought their donkeys to celebrate. How thoughtful. We found out the 'President' of Bolivia had been there that day, which warranted the small Navy gunship and all the armed personnel. The lovely ladies weren't too busy lusting after Evo Morales to charge us the appropriate entrance fee to the island. There's always time to add another tax on tourists for another non-service. 
Once we walked in, we had to find a place to stay for the night. From the harbor we looked directly upwards at the island. We were clearly at the bottom and the trek up with our bags was sure to be quite a haul. Hostel prices varied wildly and all the twelve year-olds on the island were more than willing to set us up in any sort of habitation possible. Really dig the child labor the elder locals employ. Once we got set up in a room with an excellent view of the lake and Byron bargained down the 15 year-old from 70 Bolivianos a night to a mere 50 (less than US$3.50 each) we hit the road to find something refreshing to drink. Of course we had to bargain with another what we reckon was a twelve year old girl. After we struck a deal with the kid for a candy bar and room temperature beer we headed back to our hostel to enjoy the tree stumps that had been carved into excellent seats.
We headed towards the top of the island for the sunset with a couple of out new best friends from the UK. There were approximately three restaurants open. Once we sat down and one of us tried to order something that wasn't trout, we were informed that the chicken shipment hadn't made it that day (in reality we think they had eaten all the chicken in honor of Evo). We enjoyed the sunset and realized that the locals weren't kidding around when they told us how cold it got after the sun went down.
We had planned on spending two days on the island, but due to the lack of friendliness extended and the lack of options available on the Isla, we took off with the intentions to spend a night in Copacabana. We hooked it up with the boat ride back the next afternoon after we hiked around, messed with the donkeys, llamas and experienced everything that we could squeeze out of it. We didn't have to pay anything to leave the island. Thank goodness.
Copacabana was pretty excellent, especially since we were there right on Easter. They decorated their cars, taxis and semi's to the nines and made all kinds of crafts out of palm leaves. We walked around and every once in a while sat down to enjoy another ridiculously cheap trout dinner, just because we could.
Copacabana was a nice little city. We definitely missed the summer months, and I can only imagine how many tourists would flood the beaches of the lake and enjoy one of the many wonderful swan paddle boats they had to offer. We began to set our sights on the next segment of our journey. Back to the hustle bustle of a crazy city. We were off to La Paz next. Byron was mentally getting ready for Death Road and Hanna was trying to figure out how she might tell his parents that he went over the edge.
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