DAILY PHOTO: Closing Ceremony of the Beijing Olympics
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The floating islands of Lake Titicaca began as a way for pre-Incan people to avoid subjugation by the Incans. Today they exist for the twin purposes of tourism and tax evasion. The latter is the result of a loophole whereby individuals living on floating islands are not taxed (terra firma island residents are taxed like all others.) Of course, one’s earning potential is quite limited when living on a floating island. I suspect these villages make money from the tour boat operators. They definitely earn money from handicraft sales and “tips” from the tourists — the latter often in exchange for short boat rides on reed boats and photos (either pics of the locals or pics of oneself dressed up in their traditional garb.)
If you can deal with the “ground” squishing under your feet, you should definitely make the ride out to these islands while you’re in the Peruvian Andes. Take a bus to Puno, Peru and from there it’s easy to find a boat at the docks. Make sure to visit Amantani and Tequile islands while you’re at it (these are actual islands.)
Have you ever seen an idyllic, pristine setting, and thought, Under different circumstances this would be the perfect location for a horror film?
That was my feeling as I walked out of the woods and saw this solitary, white church and its graveyard on a hill in central nowhere (No offense, Tennessee.) Picture what this place would be like under a low, roiling, gray clouds. It’s spitting cold rain, the graveyard is leaf-strewn. From which grave will a clawing hand protrude? You don’t know. You don’t know.
My dogs barking, having walked for hours, nearing the point of collapse, searching high and low for that mainstay of metropolitan rest, I spy a cast iron armrest around a corner, but inevitably find the last bench in the city to be occupied by a bronze bench-hog.
“Hey, George Hamilton, why don’t you move it along already.”
Okay, these are old people, but that bench is big enough for at least one more person. Skootch.
When they do leave enough room, they are busy having an intimate moment. Do know how awkward it feels to sit down to something like this?
Oh, I still do it, mind you. Every mother wants more for her son than to be a bus driver. But the place for that talk is at home.
Here’s the worst though, the bench hog who leaves room, but dresses really creepy and puts his arm over the backrest.
“Yes, yes, come and snuggle up to ole Death.”
Here, this guy gives you a little room, but look at the hostile body language: arms crossed, head and torso twisted slightly away. He acts like you’re a filthy, syphilitic leper just for contemplating sitting next to him.
“What makes you so much better than me, Mr. Anton Hansen Tammsaare?… Oh, the fact that they put a statue of you up for eternity in a prominent public park… Touché, well-played, Tammsaare, well-played.”
I’ll save the topic of all the bronze nudists for another occasion. Yes, we get it that you have an awesome tan and metallic abs, but no one wants to see Wee-Willy-Winky while they’re eating their sub sandwich.