Puno – May 25
We walked all over Puno looking for the local arts and crafts market. Apparently it didn´t exist. The map we had put it in one location, the directions of locals put it in another. The market wasn´t at either location. Fab and I gave up after about two hours of walking and went to a lookout point up on the side of a hill. Out in front of us we could see Lake Titicaca glimmering in the sun, the air fresh and crystal clear, and beneath us the red brick and dirty brown city of Puno. We left the spot after an old woman came and told us that there were “bad boys” in the area that robbed tourists.
Back at the hotel, under the wool sheets, the temperature outside below zero, the hotel owner and his wife had a yelling match. The man just about blew out his vocal cords, broke down in tears, by the sounds of it fell down the stairs, and then yelled some more. His wife wailed and screamed, tossed things in the lobby and slammed doors closed. Fab drooled on my shoulder fast asleep while I tried to translate the tirade.
