Family Time Conclusion Aug 1st-14th

After chasing down monkeys in the forest and eating precariously preserved foods for three days in the Parque National de Madidi, we headed to Copocabana situated gorgeously on the shore of el famoso Lago Titicaka, the worlds highest navigable lake. Copacabana just so happened to be gearing up for its once annual fiesta of the Virgin. Every city seems to have some Catholic Virgin to whom the citizenry attribute scores of miracles. Therefore virginity, though only in women, is very highly regarded. Of course this disparity; virginity in women but not men, is mathematically, absolutely impossible given that it takes two to tango. Thus, the exalted virgin bit is merely a patriarchal sham of organized religion to dominate and control the sexuality of women, if you want to know how I feel about it. Anyway, Copacabana was busy honoring the Virgin by baptizing the hoods of extemely festively decorated cars, buses, taxis and all else motorized with holy wine. Where or how this tradition originated is beyond me but taxistas and bus drivers were arriving in flocks from far flung Bolivian villages to have the Virgin work her magic on their automobiles. Aside from this odd automobile baptism, Bolivians were getting absolutely sloshed in the streets and gorging on the multitude of sweets from the millions of vendors that had set up shop to take advantage of the festival´s crowds. Escaping the furry, we headed via a tourist packed ferry, to Isla del Sol, and arrived there not to long after the advent of electricity. We easily passed two days by hiking ancient Incan terraces and llama watching on this land where, according to dogma, the first two Incan gods (man and wife) rose together out of the lake. Returning to Copacabana, only long enough to catch our onward bus, we were off to Cuzco, the original capital of the Incans and later Repubic of Peru.

Cuzco is an absolutely gorgeous city, chock full of brilliant restaurants, cobblestone streets straight out of your wildest colonial architectural dreams (if you have those), and fabulous fair-trade-option-shopping. We were sure to take advantage, sampling oven roasted Guinea Pig, a national delicacy served roasted, head, little feet, tail and all. We can thank ancient Anden Indians, who were the first to domesticate the Guinea Pig, for our little fury pets today. Machu Picchu was, of course, nothing short of incredible, though unfortunately, Aguas Calientes at its base, is a tourist dump. I happily was able to count on my brother to wake at 4:30am to hike to Machu Picchu, avoiding the slew of tour bus that carry the daily limit of 500 visitors to the top of the mountain. Judging by the dangerously small size of the steps all over the restored archaeological mecca, I´m convinced that Incans had microscopically small feet.

Lastly, I must make comment to our mountain bike trip down the "Worlds Most Dangerous Road". "Our" being only Mom and I...can you imagine Randy (clumsy and absent mind being among the many adj one could use to describe him) embarking on a bicycle ride that involves cliffs and potential death?! We descended about 12,000ft over the course of 42 miles, in about 4 hours. Simply put, the unrivaled feeling of flying by bicycle past a bus full of Bolivians gazing in astonishment out their windows at 40mph is just plain indescribable.