BT – Sillustani

This was the one day of the trip in which systems didn’t quite work as intended. My suitcase — which had been on the luggage belt with my sister’s in Lima — completely failed to arrive in Juliaca (the airport closest to Puno, our next destination), and although there were a couple of days before my next move, I was a bit worried that it might not turn up in time … or at all. In the short term, however, there was no point in getting too angry or concerned; instead I just remained hopeful that everything would work out (these things usually do, but I knew life would be complicated if they didn’t), and so the two of us boarded our mini-bus with our guide for the trip to Puno via Sillustani.

The countryside over which we travelled was a high and generally barren altiplano with humble adobe abodes scattered here and there, or bunched up along muddy streets in small towns. About half-way between Juliaca and Puno we detoured west, to visit the ancient ruins at Sillustani (S 15°43.3′ W 70°9.5′).

This is a pre-Incan burial site set on a high peninsula in Lake Urayo … and when I say “high” I mean an altitude of 3900m or so, although the peninsula is only 70 or so metres above the level of the lake. The guide proved his worth by slowly and clearly explaining the history of the place, drawing diagrams in the dirt to help us make sense of timelines and geography. I confess, however, that I have forgotten most of it, and some of it was confused anyway, due to the rises and falls of various Andean cultures and then the invasion of the Spanish as well.

The burial structures were remarkable, massive cylindrical tombs (well, truncated cones, more accurately), with impressive masonry on the outside, and looser construction on the inside.

We took it fairly easy exploring the site, as the air was dry and, although the air was not noticeably thin, by the end of the day my sister and I were both suffering a little from altitude sickness.

Various crops were being grown on the shores of the lake, and some amazing cloud formations were forming over the surrounding countryside, and, yes, we did seem somehow closer to them.

On our way back out to the main road we called in at a house along the roadside (known to our guide) where we were introduced to llamas and alpacas, saw some of the different grains and potatoes that are grown in the region (quinoa is soooo yesterday, here!), and where the older Andean woman who lived there had prepared cheese and roast potatoes as a snack for us, and showed us rugmaking and her collection of guinea pigs.

We named these little critters “Sunday dinner”, “Monday dinner”, and so on, although apparently they are sometimes regarded as a special occasion food rather than a staple, and there used to be cooking tests for the women before they were married to show that they could catch, dispatch, and prepare a guinea pig feast. We didn’t end up trying cuy (as they are known); if the opportunity had arisen I would have, but I wasn’t going to go out of my way to track it down … and they are mostly bone by all accounts and thus tedious to eat.

Late in the afternoon we arrived into Puno, a city with the population of Hobart, but rather rough and ready, with steep hills, narrow streets, and small, jam-packed houses. Most of the houses had a decidedly unfinished look to them, often three storeys high but with only two in any habitable state. We later learned that you only have to start paying tax on your house when it is completed, and so the inevitable occurs: the top storey is just a slab with some reinforcing bars coming out of half-built pillars and capped with plastic bottles instead of yellow safety caps.

An early evening downpour and our general poorliness due to soroche resulted in us deciding not to go out to eat but instead to dial in pizza. This felt like completely the wrong thing to do while travelling and meeting new cultures and cuisines, but tonight it seemed necessary and sensible. Fortunately the pizza was okay. The evening did bring some promising news, too, although I wasn’t entirely sure that all of the telephonic exchange between me and the representative from LATAM airlines was understood by either of the parties: it seems that my suitcase has been located and I am hopeful that it will arrive tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll get my head back too.