Elvis lives, we leave the building...

Back on the mainland we headed out for pizza, guacamole, wine and everything else which is inaccessible on the Isla del Sol.  This included Copacabana's entry into the Elvis lookalike competition.  The King is clearly not dead when he's playing music to gringoes at a volume which precludes conversation entirely.  Although you'd never guess from the picture, he was a good laugh in reality - well, some kind of Bolivian Graceland reality.  We danced with Elvis and his long-suffering employer until we were the last standing (only a disappointing 11:30).

The next day we headed back to Peru by bus.  The day before we had been offered the standard service for 95 Bolivianos (about £9.50).   Deciding we'd like to rest on the journey, we asked for the more luxurious option of a Transela bus.  We were charged 5 Bolivianos more and assured the buses would be of the highest quality.  Naturally this was not the case the morning afterwards, with our vendor nowhere to be seen.  However, being connned now and then is part of life on the road.  And I particularly admired this fella who charged us extra just to feel as though we would be on luxury buses when, in reality, they were exactly the same.  We smiled as we climbed into our rather dirty seats and settled into the 12 hour journey back to Cusco.  Even the extremely violent Peruvian war film didn't dampen our spirits as we were subjected to images of children being shot at full volume.  The giant bottle of Cusqueña at the border couldn't help as the time to purify had arrived.  A whole list of no-nos needed to be adhered to from this point onwards.  Madre Ayahuasca's time was approaching.