When we arrived in Puno, we could have easily mistaken Lake Titicaca for the sea so much it was big, but being at 3800 m we were quickly reminded of the altitude: from my vague headache to the feverish sickness of my companions, we had to take our time to acclimate.
The Titicaca islands could not be more different one from another: from the weirdness of the artificial floating settlements of Uros, to the familiar hospitality in Amantani, to the cultural peculiarity of Taquile where only the men knit!
We were lucky enough to be able to climb the Pachatata temple in Amantani (at 4200 m, where even steps was hard!) with perfect weather and make our offer at the sunset, to participate the real popular festival of the island communities (and not only to the cringe one organised for the passing tourists), and to profit of the sweet hospitality of the señora Matilde et señor Osvaldo: gracias!
Che bello