There is no means of transport to carry one from the pier at the boat landing, along the winding steep terraces to the village above. The entire island is devoid of motorized noise pollution. One hears only the gentle breezes and the occasional braying of a donkey. During the day, most women, animals and children take to the terraces and hillsides β while men are engaged in doing heavy duty agricultural work, repairs and construction.
The women wear layered skirts, either straw or bowler hats, and have colorful blankets strapped to their backs, which they use to carry everything from babies, to food and tools. On one such evening β as the sun turned the terraces to gold β we set out to hike, and were greeted by the sounds of a band playing on the terraces high above us.
Following the sound of the music, we scrambled upward over scrub and stones, to be rewarded by a sight that was a painting in motion: Women dressed in layered hot pink skirts lined with white lace petticoats, hot pink shawls and black felt bowler hats, twirled and spun like bright umbrellas as they danced with their male escorts. Giant oversized rounds of bread strung with bananas, oranges and apples, hung like enormous bagels around their necks.
Chicha a corn based beer brew was being served. The celebration to mark the end of the planting season and the prayers for a good harvest, was in full swing.
What a treat it was to stumble across this extraordinary festival. Not another tourist was in sight, just ourselves and our Bolivian guide and dear friend Antonio, who lives in La Paz. The Posada is a converted hacienda set in flowering gardens with a view of Lake Titicaca below, and the snow capped Andes in the distance.
