We arrived at the Puno train station with
plenty of time to spare to make sure we were able to get on the bus. Well,
everything may be on time in Chile, but the Peruvians are on some strange time
schedule that’s worse than Ecuatime. Our bus was a little over an hour late and
standing outside at 3800m, even if you’re south of the equator and it’s
supposed to be summertime, is freezing cold no matter what. Thankfully, when
the bus did finally come we were on it and off very quickly.
If anyone says night buses are the best way to travel across South America they may be right. It saves a lot of time, you don’t have to pay for a hostel for a night, and when you wake up you’re in a totally different city. The only problem I’ve discovered with night buses is this: you don’t really sleep that well, especially on the top because the bus is always swaying; the drivers are crazy and you have no idea where you are so every time you wake up you think you’re going to drive off a cliff; the driver tends to pick up random strangers like crying children; you never really sleep that well unless you drug yourself; and well, when you do wake up in that new city you’re so disoriented and you have to speak another language. This can be overwhelming for some (somehow not me, but I’ve seen it happen) that you just want to get back on the bus and go to sleep again.
We spent an hour or so in the terminal de bus just to reorient ourselves. In reality, I needed some time to wake up so I could converse and bargain with the locals about taxi rides. Of course, it’s difficult to bargain when you have no idea where you’re going and the one who does is so disoriented that they don’t know how to convey the information they have. We are a great traveling team; we laugh a lot, jaja.
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| La Basilica |
Our hostel wasn’t really a hostel, but a bed and breakfast! We had a junior suite, Wi-Fi was great, and we could have breakfast at any hour of the morning that we wanted; life couldn’t be better. Plus, we had three nights at this haven before we started to hostel-hop again. Arriving in Cusco the morning of the 5th, after we ate breakfast and settled in we set out to get train and entry tickets to Machu Picchu. Thinking it was going to be super easy with the cool map we had, we walked all the way down towards the Plaza de Armas. Oh boy, were we wrong. It seems the Machu Picchu ticket office is a fairytale place, because we familiarized ourselves with every street within a 20-block radius the Plaza de Armas. Oh yeah, and it’s the rainy season in Peru right now, so you never know when the sky will open up and give you the gift of rain. After maybe three and a half hours of asking people, being sent in the opposite direction we had just come from, and walking through streets of mud, we gave up and decided lunch and a few beers would be a great idea. Maybe we weren’t meant to see Machu Picchu, with all the accidental sacrilegious things we have been doing the past few weeks. Well, maybe. Do you know what a few beers on an empty stomach at 3400m do to you? Jeje, it makes you want to photo bomb in the Plaza de Armas. There’s an art to photo bombing that comes with practice. That’s all I’m going to say about that.
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| Playing Latino coin toss |
Thankfully, the cuy wasn’t the highlight of
the two-hour ride to the sacred valley. The ancient Incan ruins were our
reason, so we headed to Ollantaytambo and had to hike our remaining way up to the town due to a major
traffic jam on the small, cobblestone street where it was amazing two cars
could pass each other, never mind two tourist buses. Oh yeah.
Hiking up to Ollantaytambo wasn’t a big deal; we were around
the same altitude as Cusco, if not a little lower. But hiking up to the
ruins…jaja, I’m so glad I spent time in Puno at a higher elevation because
otherwise I would have died. Or I would have gotten to the top around the time
everyone else was ready to go back down. But no, the only reason I really had
any difficulty was because my allergies have been so bad that if I don’t take
meds around the clock I can’t breathe. When you already can’t breathe and then
you walk up the side of a mountain at 3400m…well…no esta bien.
The ruins were beautiful. We were higher than the ones you had to pay for, and I could see the whole town of Ollantaytambo The way the sunlight shown amongst the town and ruins made you really believe you were in a sacred valley.
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| Muchos alto |
It encompasses the heartland of the Inca Empire. The Urubamba River, also known as Vilcanota River or Wilcamayu, formed the valley. The
latter, in Quechua (the still spoken lingua franca of the Inca Empire),
means the Sacred River. The Valle
Sagrado de los Incas (Sacred Valley of the Incas) are a group of towns that run
along the rio: Písac
is a picturesque town located in the skirts
of Intihuatana hill (the place where the sun is tied); Calca; Yúcay; Urubamba, an old Inca town,
located in fertile valley, formerly a great agricultural producer center of the
Incas; and Ollantaytambo.
The
legend counts that Ollántay (the
titan of the Andes) of plebeian origin, loved the princess Cusi Coyllor
(cheerful star) the Inca king's daughter Pachacútec, who was in disagreement
with this love. Pachacútec sent the princess to a house of Virgins; Ollántay
tried to abduct her, without getting her, being able to escape. From the
fortress that Ollántay controlled he rebelled against Pachacútec, and after
bloody battles was defeated, but the generosity of Pachacútec forgave the life
of Ollántay. The foundation of Ollantaytambo is attributed to Ollántay, and the
military fortress that protected this area of the valley prevails strategically
located between two mountains.
Monday was a shop, church, and play day.
Basically, do things we wanted to do and then go back to our place and relax (i.e.,
drink wine, watch movies, and laugh our butts off). We walked among the stands
in the artisanal market, haggling with the shop owners. I will say the people
in Cusco are smart. Many of them have learned enough English to be able to tell
you the price of what something is and then offer a ‘special price’, just for
you, usually 3-5 soles less, depending on the item. Special price my butt. I
have no shame in haggling lower than the ‘special price’ that is just for me,
and I can do so in Spanish, which seemed to shock a few women. The best part of
the shopping trip was when I got into an argument (me talking in Spanish and
she in English; not too sure how that happened) about how everything in all the
artisanal markets across South America were probably made in China. I’ve seen
many of the same things in both Quito and Cusco. But of course, per this woman,
everything is made in Cusco and sent to Ecuador. Yeah…so why are things so much
cheaper in Ecuadorian markets? Please tell me this. Sadly, she could not.
Tuesday! I’m having difficulty remembering
what I did what on what day, what day it is, even what country I’m in. I guess
it’s a good thing I’m going back to NY for a while. At least I’ll know where I
am. It would be awesome if I could go back to Ecuador instead of the states;
not only would I get to be with mi novio but then I’d really have no idea where
I was, at least for awhile. Okay, okay, Tuesday! What did I do on Tuesday?
Oh…that’s right. I went to Machu Picchu! Kristen and I had to get up super
early (0530) en la mañana to get a taxi to the train station to go to Machu Picchu. They
really don’t make it easy but charge a ton. My most expensive in South
America, but definitely worth it. We arrived in Aguas Calientes around 10:50
and from there had to take a 30-minute bus ride up the mountain to the famous
Incan city.
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| Sacrificial Place |
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| Gate to the Incan city |
Standing at 2430m above sea level, Machu Picchu is set on the vertiginous site of a granite mountain sculpted by erosion and dominating a meander in the Rio Urubamba. The construction of this amazing city, set out according to a very rigorous plan, comprises one of the most spectacular creations of the Inca Empire. It appears to date from the period of the two great Incas, Pachacutec Inca Yupanqui (1438-71) and Tupac Inca Yupanqui (1472-93).
Besides being just absolutely amazing set in
a valley among mountains with all that stone work, you know what else Machu
Picchu has? A lot of stairs. They are everywhere. If you don’t feel like going
for a run, just go to Machu Picchu and hike up and down the stairs. Go up to
the top, back down and walk around a little, and then remember you wanted to
take a panoramic from the top. And have me follow you. It's the perfect workout
for both of us. Kristen and I had a lot of fun at Machu Picchu. First, you
really need to look where you’re going or one of you is going to fall down the
stairs or off a cliff. That’s why it’s always best to travel in pairs. You have
someone to prevent you from falling. Second, no offense to anyone, but Asian
tourists are really funny. One guy was standing slightly behind me taking a
panoramic and before I realized what he was doing and move, he went over my
head with his camera. Now, I know he only got sky there. What was even funnier
was that his wife was laughing and taking his picture while he was trying to
avoid the giant white person. Jeje. Third, for some reason when Kristen tells
me to do something I do it automatically without even thinking twice (I
obviously must really trust her. Did you know that I repelled 80 feet after her
down waterfall in Puerto Rico? Talk about trust). SO when she told me to “Run!
Run to where that man is standing so I can take a picture!” What do you think I
did? I ran, of course, cut some European guys off from taking a picture, and
almost accidently ran the guy I was trying to replace off the vista point. I
got my photo, but after that we had to slink away down the other stairs as to
prevent stares.
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| The Money Shot. |
On Wednesday we met up with our newfound
friend from Cusco, Daniel, for ceviche before heading to the airport for our
flight to Lima. Lima was the last leg of this amazing five-month
self-discovering trip I’ve been on. With only approximately 31 hours in Lima
before my fight to New York was scheduled to take off, there was only so much
we could do in this coastal town.
It turns out that whatever I was going to do I’d be doing alone. Kristen had never changed her flight to leave a week earlier as I had back in November, so when she did try to have it changed at the Delta ticket office when we arrived in Lima they put her on the first flight back to Atlanta, which left at 0130 this morning. Apparently telling an airline your ‘grandma’ is sick really does work. I spent the evening walking around my district of Lima, which really isn’t in a district, but between two: the popular touristy Miraflores and the upper class San Isidro (which just happens to be the name of the gated community on mainland Ecuador within which I lived). Later on I (mostly) planned out the following day and then met Anna for a drink at some outdoor mall on the ocean. It was wonderful to see her and we partook in our usual tradition of drinking Irish coffees.
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| Parque de Amour overlooking the Pacific |
Thursday, the day I was scheduled to leave
South America (sob), I attempted to enjoy the morning with a nice, lesuirely
stroll to la playa. Wearing jeans and sneakers may have not been the greatest
idea because, of course, it wasn’t a leisurely stroll anymore. It was a sweat
your butt off and walk around in sweaty, wet clothes while being under a hot
sun with no compassion. After seeing that la playas in Lima were really
stretches of large, round pebbles I heading to the one place I knew I could
find a little refuge: the Starbucks at Lamarco mall. Now, don’t get me wrong,
the best place by far to get a coffee and relax is Mockingbird on San Cristóbal.
Unfortunately, I’m not in the Galápagos, so the current next best thing in a city I really know
nothing about is the air-conditioned wifi-jacked Starbuck’s. I spent two hours
there drinking iced coffee, skyping with Jairo y looking up maps and attempting
to understand the public transportation of Lima. 
Lima is a really, really big city. It rivals
New York. The number of parques Lima has probably rivals that of the number of
homeless people New York has. For real. Because Lima is go large, and the only
places you seem to ever want to go are really far away, it’s super expensive to
take a taxi. I was quoted S/25.00 from Lamarco to the Plaza de Armas. No way
was I going to pay that much (even though it really is $10 USD, when you’re
dealing with local currency you realize very quickly when you’re about to get
ripped off by the driver. Although sometimes you don’t care). So I walked maybe
30-ish blocks and hailed one of the ‘unsafe’ taxis on the street (unsafe
meaning the driver is self-employed, his car is a piece of shit, and there is a
slight chance you could get mugged) and got him to take me for S/10.  |
| Plaza de Armas |
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| La Basilica |
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| Iglesia Santa Domingo |
The Parque de la Reserva contains many water fountains, many of which are timed to music playing on load speakers. As the sun slowly sets the different colored lights come on and a true water show is only a few meters from your feet. Children are running around, excited, couples are sitting on the benches holding hands, and for some reason women keep trying to get real close to get their pictures taken and then scream and run away when they actually get wet. Who would’ve thought that standing in front of a massive amount of water shooting towards the sky and then returning to earth due to gravity would get you wet? Not me.
Another taxi ride (only S/6, so in total that’s S/28, the price of a one-way to the Plaza de Armas, and I got some exercise!) I headed back to the hostel (thank you thank you for the use of the shower), only to take a long one-hour and S/55 ride to the aeropuerta. I made it through security and immigration in under an hour. Want to know my new issue with airports and airlines? Well I’m going to tell you anyway: who does LAN think they are that they can set up yet another security table, go through my carry-on stuff all over again, take things that the airport security allowed me through with, and take away the water that I bought after I cleared security and wasn’t even opened yet. And how do you argue with women with bad English? You don’t. You annoy the shit out of the poor flight attendant by constantly asking for water, apologizing each time and telling them the LAN girl at the gate took the water that you had bought in the airport.
But oh, this isn’t over. It get’s so much
better. This is why I believe I was never meant to leave South America.
Everyone get’s on the plane, we’re settled in for the long 7 ½ hour flight, and
we’re told we have to disembark because the plane has technical issues. It just
came from Argentina. What on Earth happened on the way over here? Thankfully
(unlike some other airlines that I won’t mention) LAN has extra planes just
hanging out waiting for their friends to have technical issues. We had to go
through the boarding process all over again, got on another plane, and I don’t
even remember what happened after that because I must have passed out. Woke up
to some really rocky turbulence (holy shit, I almost lost my stomach a few
times); it’s not okay when you’re woken up by turbulence so rough your stomach
wants to jump into your throat. I’ve just woken up to my first morning in New York., and although I’m covered in enough alpaca to prevent me from freezing, I’m
not ready emotionally ready to return. There are so many things that are new to me or I have to readjust to that it's overwhelming. Thankfully, I love travel, because I have reached a new beginning of yet another
journey that awaits me.
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