Across the Altiplano

On 2 November, we departed Arequipa for Lake Titicaca, reputedly the world’s highest navigable lake (3812 metres above sea level). It’s also the largest lake in South America, a quirky fact that’s escaped me until now. Our tour itinerary promised a full day of driving across the desolate Andean Altiplano, which proved 100 per cent accurate.  By the time we reached Puno, on the shores of Lake Titicaca, we'd spent more than six hours on the road, excluding pit stops along the way.

Our route saw us climb to approximately 4,500 metres as we passed through the Salinas and Aguada Blanca National Reserve. A few members of our tour group experienced passing symptoms of altitude sickness. However, Garry and I escaped unscathed. It's worth noting that Arequipa sits at 2,400 metres above sea level, while Puno sits at 3,810 metres. In other words, we finished the day more than 1,400 metres higher than we’d started.

Our first stop was the village of Patahuasi, located more than 4,000 metres above sea level. Its claim to fame is the dramatic Bosque de Piedras, or Stone Forest, a series of unique rock formations shaped by centuries of wind and water. While we didn't visit the actual forest, we did see its dramatic western flank towering over Cafe Tematico Inkawasi, the venue for our pit stop. As you can see above, a curious baby llama provided some impromptu entertainment while we drank our coffee and sipped therapeutic coca tea.

Altiplano animals became an increasingly common feature as the day progressed. Although one pit stop we made was rather special. In the middle of nowhere, we pulled over to watch slender Vicunas (a rare type of llama) roaming in the wild. Vicunas are thought to be the wild ancestor of domesticated alpacas.

Elsewhere, stock standard llamas also made regular appearances. For example, a local villager had one conveniently on display as our bus pulled in for lunch. For a small tip, you could take your photo with the poor creature. As you can see in this post's opening image, I paid my dues and secured my souvenir photo. As our Peruvian tour progressed, every village we visited inevitably hosted one or more of these photo-friendly llamas.

For hours, we made our way across the arid, rocky altiplano, eventually reaching Juliaca, the largest commercial centre in the Puno region. Here we turned south toward Lake Titicaca, catching a brief glimpse of Cristo Blanco, a prominent white statue of Christ with its arms outstretched atop Waynaruqi Hill. 

The urban buzz was a welcome change after hours of desolate altiplano scenery. Although the presence of adobe buildings in the suburbs and relatively modest brick structures in the centre of town was unexpected. It was quite a contrast to Lima and Arequipa, highlighting the relatively undeveloped nature of Peru's economy beyond its major centres.

About half an hour south of Juliaca, we stop to explore the crumbling funeral towers of Sillustani. These stone tombs, known as chullpas, are a sight to behold, standing on an elevated headland overlooking Laguna Umayo. According to historians, they're the vestiges of the Quila people, an ethnic group conquered by the Incas in the 15th Century. 

For almost an hour, we wandered among these extraordinary ruins, soaking up the serenity of their lakeside location. Our guide explained that each tower was devoted to a single family, with entire generations often buried together.  However, historians believe their use was limited to nobility. Sadly, many of the chullpas have been dynamited by grave robbers. Despite their desecration, the incredible precision and workmanship that went into their construction are still visible.

After travelling for hours across the Andean plateau, we finally caught our first glimpse of Lake Titicaca. On the outskirts of Puno, the road wound sharply downhill, dropping 500 meters in a matter of minutes. As we descended, we were treated to breathtaking views of the city and the lake beyond. 

Lake Titicaca is far bigger than you’d imagine. It literally filled the horizon, its waters shimmering in the late afternoon sun. In the distance, we could see its famous reed banks and beyond lay the island of Taquile, our next destination. If you look carefully, you’ll see the island’s faint outline in the photo below. 

Puno sits in a sheltered bay on the lake’s northwest shore. It was founded by the Spanish as a provincial capital in 1668. These days, it’s home to more than 100,000 people, which became abundantly clear as we passed through its hillside suburbs. Ahead of us, the city could be seen sprawling around the lakefront, forever blessed by another Cristo Blanco statue standing vigil nearby.

Our adventure in Peru continues here.

NOTE (May 2026)

It's been twenty years since we drove through Juliaca. While updating this post, I spent hours trying to locate a street scene I took from our bus window. Google Maps kept directing me to a side street in Juliaca that looked nothing like the photos I'd taken. Take a look above, and you'll see what I mean. The first image was taken by me in 2005, the second by Google Street View in 2013 and the final image in 2022.

By pure luck, Google Maps still displays one image from a street sequence taken in 2013. This was enough to confirm I was actually viewing the same street. Offset Continental, a local print shop, is still in business (with a much smaller sign), and Ricos Pan bakery remains unrenovated. The pace of development over two decades is simply extraordinary. I sense we saw a version of Peru that's rapidly disappearing.