Puno

Above: View from the train to Puno.

Thursday 14th April 1988

I awoke just before the alarm clock which was set for 06:15 hrs. with the shits and feeling wretched and tired. I was tempted to stay in bed but forced myself to get up and pack. I walked down Avenida Sol with Eddie and said goodbye as he took his bus to the airport for his subsequent flight back to Lima.

I was surprised to find only three people in the queue for first class train tickets to Puno. I bought my ticket for the buffet car and got settled in my seat on the train. Then for some reason we had to change carriages and, in the reshuffle, I ended up on a table opposite two older American women.

The train left on time at 08:20 hrs. and we chugged out through the more primitive and poverty-stricken outskirts of Cuzco. Throughout the day the scenery remained pretty much the same. The track followed a wide, flat-bottomed valley with mountains at each side. Most of the valley floor was cultivated with sweetcorn, other crops or was lush, grassy pasture for sheep, llamas, and cows.

Rain spattered the window for most of the day. The two American ladies, bravely touring the world with their mountain of luggage kept me well fed with half of their expensive (280 I/-) lunch which was served to them on the train.

Every now and then we would stop at a small town, largely constructed of mud bricks, with a dominating church. Stout indigenous Indian women in shawls and bowler hats sat in doorways while the kids and menfolk ran to the train selling white fur rugs and slippers, clay figures and bulls, or simply begged for food and pens.

Above: Another view from the train to Puno.

Sometimes dogs streaked along in pursuit of the train and occasionally a lone cyclist was seen on the track which ran alongside the railway. Towards evening the landscape got wetter with swampy lakes and sinusoidal rivers carving mini–Grand Canyons.

I read “The Dead Zone” which is a science fiction thriller novel by Stephen King published in 1979. The story follows Johnny Smith, who awakens from a coma of nearly five years and, apparently as a result of brain damage, now experiences clairvoyant and precognitive visions triggered by touch. When some information is blocked from his perception, Johnny refers to that information as being trapped in the part of his brain that is permanently damaged, "the dead zone." The novel also follows a serial killer in Castle Rock, and the life of rising politician Greg Stillson, both of whom are evils Johnny must eventually face.

The American women played Patience with playing cards. At 19:00 hrs. we arrived at Juliaca where I helped them get their multitude of bags off the train. They gratefully said goodbye and disappeared with the “Lima Tours” representative and a mob of eager porters. After a short stay in the station we trundled off towards Puno.

The carriage was now almost empty so we could sprawl over the double seats. At 20:15 hrs. we pulled into Puno. Puno is a city in south-eastern Peru, located on the shore of Lake Titicaca. It is the capital city of the Puno Region and the Puno Province. The city was established in 1668 by viceroy Pedro Antonio Fernández de Castro as capital of the province of Paucarcolla with the name San Juan Bautista de Puno. The name was later changed to San Carlos de Puno, in honor of king Charles II of Spain. Puno has several churches dating back from the colonial period; they were built to service the Spanish population and evangelize the natives.

Puno is an important agricultural and livestock region; important livestock are llamas and alpacas, which graze on its immense plateaus and plains. Much of the city economy relies on the black market, fuelled by cheap goods smuggled in from Bolivia. Puno is served by the Inca Manco Capac International Airport in nearby Juliaca.

Puno is situated between the shores of Lake Titicaca, with it’s Floating Islands and the mountains surrounding the city. There is less than two miles of flat land between the shores and the foothills, which has caused the growing city to continue to expand upwards onto the hillsides. As a result, the town's less developed and poorest areas, which are high on the hillsides, often have very steep streets, which are generally unpaved and cannot be accessed by automobile.

We battled our way through the hotel and tour touts. I walked with two Swedes, Joe and Karin, and a New Zealand girl to the Hotel Europa on Alfonzo Ugarte where I got a double room to myself for 200 I/-. I dined out with the trio of travellers from the train.

We went into the Café Internacional just down the road from the hotel where I had tomato soup followed by chicken chop suey. At 22:00 hrs. I laid out my sleeping bag on top of the grubby bedclothes and fell into an exhausted sleep.