Lake Titicaca lies at 3,812 metres on the border between Peru and Bolivia, the highest lake commercial boats still cross, and some of the people who live on it built the ground under their feet out of reeds. Stepping off a boat onto one of the Uros islands, you feel the whole thing give beneath you like a mattress. Underneath are blocks of matted totora root that float on their own. The families lay fresh reed over the top every few weeks as the bottom rots away, and drive wooden stakes into the lakebed to stop the island wandering off. The same plant is food: the white base of a peeled stalk is eaten raw, and people here credit it with keeping goitre off the lake. Out past the reeds the water stops behaving like a lake. Amantaní is thirty-eight kilometres from Puno, three hours of open crossing. A swell gets up on the way and the shore goes down out of sight.
On Amantaní and neighbouring Taquile the weaving is not a performance put on for boats. The men knit tight patterned hats while the women spin and work the ground looms their grandparents used. The piece you are handed carries symbols that have been read the same way for generations. You spend the night in a family's stone house. Quinoa soup by candlelight, then a pile of heavy blankets, because nothing up here holds its heat. Across on the Bolivian side is Isla del Sol, where Andean tradition puts the beginning of everything: the sun god sent the first Inca up out of a rock there. And people have been giving things to this water for a very long time. Divers working a reef off Isla del Sol have brought up more than two thousand offerings left by the Tiwanaku: gold and shell ornaments, incense burners shaped like pumas, and the bones of young llamas.