A carefree sense of being is easy to achieve in this bizarre floating land, Tim Brothers writes.
The post-modern philosopher Alain de Botton observes in his explorer's manifesto The Art Of Travel: "Happiness with, and in, a place must be a brief and apparently haphazard phenomenon which rarely endures for more than 10 minutes."
Judging by this, I doubt Mr de Botton ever attended a shindig on Lake Titicaca.
Conversely, our days in Puno, Peru, were shrouded by a cloud of anxiety. Anxiety that our next destination, Bolivia, stood on the brink of civil war. The military guard had clashed violently with protesters and scores of people were killed in the violent melee.
It was a perfect time to escape to the mystical lake.
Removed from political turmoil, Lake Titicaca provided us with an undisturbed bubble of bliss. Along with hypnotising cobalt blue skies, ancient rituals and a damn fine fiesta to boot.
Historically, Titicaca has offered such sanctuary. In the 15th century, the Incan Empire swept south to conquer what is now Peru and Bolivia, enslaving indigenous tribes in subjugated territories. Straddling the border between the two countries, Titicaca was a strategic fulcrum. But the Uros Indians rebelled against the Incan regime. They took to the water and created a series of islands built upon beds of packed reeds. The world's first man-made archipelago! To this day, the islands survive, as do their resilient Indian custodians. The Incas simply couldn't be bothered flushing out the refugees.
The islands are named after their creators: Los Uros, "the Floating Islands". The inhabitants eke out a livelihood from fishing and tourism: upon touching shore, a cavalcade of indigenous women appear in gloriously vibrant garments and pelt-brown bowler hats, peddling local handicrafts on colourful mats.
Stepping onto this "terra non-firma" is an acutely bizarre experience. Like walking on a futon, the ground beneath you sinks slightly with each step. Each week packs of new reeds are sewn onto the ground to replace those submerged and disintegrating underneath.
Abruptly, we're whisked away aboard one of Uros's trademark reed boats; made of the same tortora reeds that constitute the islands' foundations, roofs and walls of its dwellings. Our oarsman is a traditionally-clad local who looks straight out of an Andean pipe quartet. After the obligatory photo opportunities, we hop back into our motorcraft. Destination: Amantani. Accommodation: Titicaca farmhouse.
Amantani is the largest of Titicaca's natural, non-floating islands, and home to some 5000 Aymara Indians. The inhabitants have proudly maintained their cultural distinction and autonomous control over tourism. No Hyatts or Mercures here: the only accommodation is a traditional Amantani farming homestead.
We dock on the foreshore and are met by a throng of farm women. One by one, our tour group is paired off, as our prospective hosts giggle among themselves. We locate our landlady, who promptly disappears up the island's steep hills, forcing us to follow.
At 3870 metres above sea level, Titicaca is the world's highest navigable lake. Clambering up Amantani's precipitous ridges, one feels every wisp of diminishing oxygen. Each step is a breathless endeavour, mollified only by the area's stunning natural beauty and the perfect symmetry of surrounding agricultural terraces. Even today, the ancient Incan systems of agriculture and stonemasonry are proudly preserved.
Our homestead is a basic whitewashed building, with chest-high doorways. Luckily we're hardly Harlem Globetrotter-height, yet somehow we feel like Gandalf crouching down in a hobbit hovel.
Amantani residents are vegetarian, since raising animals for meat is impractical. Host families are paid a nominal fee by tour agents, but you're recommended to bring a gift of rice, flour, sugar or other basic necessities.
In return we're treated to a delightful spread of quinua soup (a Peruvian grain), rice, chips, eggs, and delicious herbal tea. I attempt to make small-talk with our matronly host, but she ducks out giggling. My fiancee notes that she may not speak Spanish, as Aymara Indians are self-sufficient and isolated.
We rejoin the tour group and trek to Amantani's crest, and the twin temples of Patchamama (Mother Earth) and Patchatata (Father Earth). Set on opposite hills, the ruins are guardians of the respective gods of fertility and the afterlife. In February, the islanders run a race between them, to determine how fortunes will fall for the forthcoming harvest.
We climb to the Patchamama temple, where we customarily orbit the shrine three times: for luck, health and a bountiful crop. As if responding, the gods bless us with the most dazzling sunset over the frosty currents of Titicaca. The moment is profoundly spiritual, or would have been, were it not for the torturous strains of pan-pipes played by children, busking for donations.
That night, a pea (dance) is organised for our group. The sole requirement is that we attend in local costume. The male uniform is a simple woollen poncho and woven beanie, while the women's is a complex tangle of multilayered skirting that takes 30 minutes to don and transforms the most shapely female figure into a pepperpot.
A traditional Andean band entertains us in the village community hall. The Aymara women pluck out tourists for a strange circular dance in which participants drag each other violently in opposing directions. The women are surprisingly strong, and cackle at what pushovers we Western males are.
The true survivors of the night, however, are the local six-year-old girls. They select their favourite tourist partners, whom they thoroughly exhaust with an incessant display of youthful energy and curious skirt twirling.
While our stamina fades, our smiles do not. Titicaca and Amantani stamp us with a carefree happiness that, unlike de Botton's ephemeral 10-minute joy, lasts the entire tour and beyond.
TRIP NOTES
* Individual three-hour trips to Los Uros are offered by Puno's travel agents for $3-$5. Most hotels have their own agency. Our two-day tour cost $15 including accommodation, food and island entrance fees.
* Amantani has no electricity. Candles and headlamps are essential.
* Puno is a 10-hour train ride from Cusco, Peru's most popular city with tourists. Cusco is reached by bus or plane from the capital Lima.
* Return economy flights to Lima start from $2254 with Aerolineas Argentinas. Qantas, Air New Zealand and LanChile also fly to Peru.