The Floating Islands Of Titicaca
Michaela wants me to tell you about face cream. And hand cream. Et cetera. At these altitudes they behave rather differently from normal – every time Michaela removes the lid from a tube, there’s a rocket launcher of a squirt of white liquid capable of hitting the far wall of a hotel bedroom without so much as a gentle squeeze on the tube, like the contents can’t wait to escape. No doubt there’s a scientific reason for this phenomenon but for now Michaela is busy finding ways to clean cream off everything from quilt covers to wallpaper.
Today’s cream coating for the bedroom furniture is in Puno, our last stop in Peru before we cross the border into Bolivia, a pleasant town where the Peruvian obsession with panpipes goes to new incessant levels, though to be fair we’re still able to enjoy the music and thankfully we’re not yet panpiped out. Not quite.
We have ventured now into the vast region known as the Antiplano, a huge high level plateau – in fact, this is the only place in the world outside of Tibet where such an extensive high level plateau exists. The bulk of the Altiplano lies in Bolivia but such is its size that it also extends into Peru, Chile and Argentina, covering in total some 40,000 square miles. This is a world of unique flora and fauna – and a world where we breathe hypoxic air (Google it – we had to!), dangerous if not treated with respect. Puno is the first of several Altiplano towns and cities which we’ll be visiting over the next two weeks; it’ll be a some time before we drop below 3,500 metres altitude.
This pleasing town sits on the shore of Lake Titicaca, the world’s highest navigable lake at 3,812 metres above sea level. It’s a sizeable lake too, measuring 190 x 80km with a surface area of 8,372 square kilometres, and a maximum depth of 280 metres. The Peru-Bolivia border runs roughly down its centre.
A short boat ride offshore from Puno are the famed floating islands which are home to the Uros people who have inhabited these strange places for many generations, isolated from the mainland community and in extremely spartan conditions. Let us say next though that visiting these places now is a little odd: fascinating to observe and learn how in a historical sense they have survived, but the fact that tourists now traipse through their world every day has surely, for them, changed everything. Remarkable as it all is, the isolation is in reality a thing of the past.
So let’s forget the now and imagine the then. The floating islands are constructed entirely from the reed grasses which grow in abundance in this part of Lake Titicaca. In their natural growth process, the reed forests form a thick 1-metre deep root bed comprising root and mud, which breaks away from the lake floor as water levels rise in the rainy season. Thus, the reed bed rises to the surface and becomes effectively a natural floating island.
Presumably, having spotted this natural process, the Uros people concluded that all that was now needed was some form of secure matting to top the island and make it habitable. For this, they dry out the tops of the self same plants until they are straw-like, then matting them down on to the surface to a depth of one metre. So now there’s a metre of dry flat matting and, beneath, another metre of wet root bed. Of course, this combination is temporary as the wet root beds begin to rot the matting, so a new 10-centimetre layer of dry matting is needed, across the top of the island, every single week.
The island is then anchored to poles (you guessed it, the poles are the thicker reed stems, almost as thick as bamboo) via ropes. Thus, the island doesn’t sail, but it definitely floats – walking across it is akin to walking on a bouncy castle, and when the wake of a passing boat passes through, the whole island moves in waves.
For centuries the Uru led a completely isolated lifestyle, eating just fish and birds (and, would you believe, the base of those very useful reeds), with little or no contact with the outside world. Now, tourism brings money, brings solar power, brings food from mainland shops. It also brings knowledge, so of course now the population of the floating islands is dwindling fast as the younger generation head away from the traditional life and into an easier world.
Last word on the Uru, or Uros people, has to go to their very unusually shaped boats, pictured below and vaguely resembling Venetian gondolas. These odd looking craft are made from – well, they’re made from the reed grasses, of course they are, although sometimes nowadays with a synthetic coating. The island President (yes, each floating island has one) tells us the main reason the boats have such high sides.
He points to the tiny, flimsy huts that are their homes.
“Here on our island”, he says, “there is no privacy. So when two people want love, they go on to the water in one of our boats”.
It takes a moment for it to sink in that he really is saying that the boats have high sides so that couples can have sex in them away from prying eyes. He even calls the boats their “barcos romanticos”. Michaela suggests another name but I can’t put it in print!
Final word on that to The President…”we always say”, he chuckles, “that two go out in the boat but three come back”.
Leaving the floating islands and their unusual history behind, we journey to a more conventional island, Taquile, where the island dwellers enjoy a reputation for making high quality woven hats and knitted belts and bags. In truth, our joy of Taquile is the lovely ancient shepherd’s path which rises from the lakeside to the village at the top, reminiscent of our many hikes to the chora of a Greek island. Apart from the gorgeous island scenery, our confident 40-minute climb is a nice confirmation that we are acclimatising well to this very different environment.
Climbing into bed tonight, we feel that wonderful mix of travellers’ emotions that comes with moving on: a genuine sadness that tomorrow we will be crossing the border and leaving Peru behind, but a buzzing excitement that a new country, Bolivia, awaits.
Adios Peru. Muchas gracias.
29 Comments
Lynette d'Arty-Cross
Pan flutes – I forgot about those – a little goes a long way as far as I’m concerned! Those floating homes – a little like generational houseboats, it seems – are rather amazing if one wants to pursue an off-the-grid, isolated lifestyle, but as you point out, it seems that this niche way of living is dying quickly and soon will likely only be sustained by tourism. Globalisation definitely causes a blurring of distinctive lines, even as far away as the Uros people are. A very interesting read, Phil.
And here’s something I discovered years ago about shooting creams: give the bottles or tubes a good shaking before uncapping. That way, air climbs to the top of the container and comes out first instead of the cream. (Depending on the shape and size of the container, this might not work, but it’s worth a try.) Also, store the bottles or tubes upright if possible. Difficult to do while travelling, I know. Cheers.
Phil & Michaela
Yep, in truth, the guy said that he feels the Islands now have a very limited future and once the current older generation move or die, that will be that. Due to tourism I suspect they will maintain one or two as an open air museum, which is not far off what it is now. Amazing way to have lived though huh. I’ve passed on the advice on the exploding cream saga, thank you 😁
restlessjo
It’s a pretty labour intensive lifestyle, floating about on those islands, and the huts don’t look very stable? And how on earth do you keep warm in winter? I know- a bit of canoodling on the boats!
Phil & Michaela
Nothing seemed stable, even walking on it is a strange experience. It must have been a very unusual, isolated existence, Jo.
Eha Carr
Am shaking my head scrolling up-and-down . , , you have taken me into a world the practicality of which I never knew existed. Different, strange and fascinating! Hugely interesting to see how people live there but then one begins to ask how they survive? How long is their usual lifespan with such limited food? From where they get their colourful clothes? They must get their money from somewhere – what can they do for a living? When issue ensues from the fun on the boats . . , what do the children do all day and do they get to any formal education at all . . .? And what on earth ensues in foul weather? . . . Am laughing a tad tho’ – remember making a comment about what is called the Antiplano resembling Tibet > I did not have a clue what I was talking about, but photos remembered from another time told a story . . . a correct one 🙂 ! Be well, be happy . . .
Phil & Michaela
Well, like we said, tourism has changed everything and life for them is no longer the life of isolation which it once was. Nevertheless it’s fascinating to wander through and imagine just how life actually was for many generations. So the answers to some of your questions are very different from what they would have been. The clothing was woven on the islands using alpaca wool and natural dyes – obtained I guess through bartering….trading the raw materials for finished goods. They also kept pigs in the muddy swamps close to the islands, which would presumably provide both food and another bartering commodity.
Lookoom
I have serious reservations about visiting the floating islands of Puno. As great as their features are, their contemporary presentation is a farce. It’s obvious that they don’t live on the island but make it look like they do in an attempt to extort more money from sympathetic visitors.
Personally, I think Bolivia has the best synthesis of what we love about the Andes, and certainly more authenticity.
Phil & Michaela
Well, to a degree. It’s very obvious that the lifestyle is no longer isolated but they didn’t try and hide that, the changes brought by tourism weren’t hidden, they were made obvious. Despite the tourist aspect, if you treat what you’re seeing as an open air museum and picture their life as it once was then you can see beyond the tourist aspect and get something from your visit. The phrase I used in my narrative was to deal with the “then” and not the “now”. What a strange, isolated life they led for generations, though.
Travels Through My Lens
Amazing photos! We are considering a trip to South America next year and your posts are helping us to narrow our travel plans.
Phil & Michaela
Peru is fabulous and endlessly varied and rewarding. There’s my first recommendation!
Monkey's Tale
It’s the differences in air pressure. It shouldn’t happen again as long as your on the altiplano and stay at relatively the same elevation.
When we were there, sme Uros still lived on Reed islands in very remote spots on the lake not visited by tourists, so obviously we didn’t see them. Do you know if they still do? Or did they all moved to live on land?
Phil & Michaela
We were told that some remain, but really the best way to see through the tourist aspect is to view the visit kind of like a museum where the point is to learn their remarkable history rather than pretend that everything you’re seeing is genuine. It’s worth it, because they have such an unusual story to tell.
Monkey's Tale
Oh I agree, I just wondered if there were still authentic floating bmvillages out there.
Monkey's Tale
Oops floating villages
Phil & Michaela
😀. We were told they still exist, is all I can say!
WanderingCanadians
It’s fascinating to learn more about the floating islands and how they are constructed and maintained. Sounds like a lot of work!
Phil & Michaela
Yes, though in reality their lifestyle is much compromised now through tourism and is nowhere near as isolated as it once was. Their history though is just fascinating, what a way to live!
Toonsarah
You can tell Michaela that I’ve experienced exactly the same phenomenon with tubes of cream at altitude! It helps if you open it very very slowly, but some will always shoot out it seems 😀
I experienced similar mixed feelings about the floating islands visit. In some ways it felt a bit voyeuristic, but the people do have a choice whether to welcome tourists or not. I guess they feel the benefits outweigh the disadvantages, and maybe they welcome the opportunity to educate outsiders about their lives and their history, as well as (of course!) welcoming the money. I understood though that some islanders choose to live more remotely still and don’t receive visitors – is that still the case?
Phil & Michaela
We were told that was the case, but also told by the same person that he believed that the last islanders will be gone with the current generation.
Toonsarah
I’m never sure whether to be sad when I hear things like that. After all, it’s their lives and their choices – am I just being nostalgic or wanting to preserve cultures so that I can go and gawk at them? Or is it genuinely a shame that traditional ways of life are being lost and we’re all becoming too homogenous?
Phil & Michaela
I know. Difficult to say because all elements of those sentiments hold some truth
grandmisadventures
What an incredible experience you’ve had in Peru. And what an incredible last chapter to see the floating islands. I cant even imagine daily life like that. Cant wait to follow along with you to Bolivia 🙂
Phil & Michaela
Cheers Meg, Peru really is special. Terrific country which has just about everything.
Annie Berger
I don’t remember hearing the story behind why the boats have high sides – too amusing! Did you see any men knitting as I did on Taquile Island? Our tour group was told that the men learn to knit to woo women.
Phil & Michaela
Yes. Knitting for men, weaving for women.
MrsWayfarer
I didn’t know about this place before, and I’m fascinated by the culture.
Phil & Michaela
An unusual scene, to be sure
wetanddustyroads
I had to laugh at Michaela’s ‘relationship’ with her creams at high altitude. We drive quite a few mountain passes on our road trips and I only remember about the ‘flying cream’ when I open the little bottle! Beautiful photo of Lake Titicaca. And yes, I can understand that it is a difficult situation with the Uros people – my first thought, however, was that the yellow island boat looks a bit out of place. I assume it won’t be long before life as they knew it will be completely a thing of the past.
Phil & Michaela
Yep, as someone said, they really think that this is the last generation. Shame in a way but there’s always two sides to a story huh