Greetings friends and family, you will be happy (we hope) to know that we have much more to report compared to our lazy beach time.
In Lima we struggled a bit to find a place to stay in Cuzco. It ended up being way too much time on the internet and on the frustrating pay phones to go in explicit detail. We ended booking a reservation with the backpacker super company Flying Dog. Our taxi to the Lima airport was scary and exciting. Our hostel had called for a taxi to pick us up at 115pm, we needed to be there by 2 and it takes close to 45 minutes with all the traffic. At 145pm with the taxi being a no-show, we started to panic. It´s advised to only take registered taxi´s here in the big metropolis of Lima. There are unregistered taxi´s, tiny little car like things that appear to be on their last legs, that are much cheaper but have a much higher incidence rate of burglary and crime. We´ve avoided them up to this point as we were desperate. Our gracious front desk man at the hostel picked one out of the crowd and seemed to have some sort of stern private talk with him in spanish.
At first the guy seemed pretty normal, I think our feelers were a little off due to the airport panic. The guy ended up making brief small talk with his limited english and our short bus spanish. Within several blocks the intensity of his driving had picked up, honking his horn and driving through intersections when he had a red light. His speed increased and ran stop signs in the residential slums, the bounce over speed bumps made me hit my head on the car´s ceiling. Every time he would do something crazy he would clap his hands and laugh, saying ¨ahhhhhh Peru¨. When we got to the very busy 6 lane avenue, he began to drive on the curb and parallel walking paths to speed ahead of the traffic. He would jump the curb and re-enter the avenue when a small amount of space opened up during the times when the traffic accelerated. Packed buses, small and large, would honk their horns at him when he would magically appear in the cloud of black smog that emanated from the vehicle in front. As we neared the airport he removed the taxi sign on the roof of his car as it is illegal for unregistered taxis to enter the airport. I don´t know how he convinced the guard with the big gun that we were his gringo friends and we just happen to be riding in the back with large luggage, but I didn´t ask any questions. When he pulled into the heavily trafficked drop-off area of the airport, he honked and yelled at a car full of nuns to get out of his way so he could park. As maddening, frightening, and insane the ride was, he got us there in one piece in only 20 minutes. We would have missed our plane if it weren´t for him. We had to be specially escorted to the front of large lines so we could make our plane, they were boarding when we arrived at the gate.
Okay, I know that was a long description but it I feel it needed to be well documented for future generations.
The ride to Cuzco was really nice, and a little scary at the end. With the city being over 4,000ft in elevation, and being located in the middle of a valley with even much larger mountains, the landing is extremely difficult with the heavy winds and the airlines only use their best pilots for the job, at least so they say. It was a little dizzying, kind of like being on kiddie-style roller coaster full of foreign tourists.
The first steps getting out of the plane was a good preview of the new few days to come. Adjusting to the altitude is a strange experience. I hate to use another rollercoaster/theme park reference, but anybody out there ever go on the Gravitron at your local country fair? You know how when you get out it´s hard to walk and your chest feels like it´s falling? Well, it´s like that only it last 2-3 days. Slow steady steps, sleep, and lots of Coca tea help tremendously.
It was raining buckets when we did our senile walk outside of the airport terminal. Luckily we had a taxi waiting for us from our hostal, holding up a sign that said ¨Melany¨. We arrived at our hostal and had our first introduction to Luigi the ¨Jungle Boy¨. Luigi worked at the hostel, but spent most of his nights going clubbing with foreigners and working the following day with little sleep. Luigi the jungle boy was from Iquitos, the jugle city capital in north eastern Peru that isn´t accessible by car, only plane or boat. He had long curly hair and could speak very muffled english, but his enthusiasm for the language did not slow him down.
¨I am jun-gol boeee! I am (mumblemumblemumble), and strong in heart. Do you guys like to party? I have been (mumblemumblemumblemumble) for long time (laughs loudly).....I am jun-gol boeee!¨
The other person working the hostel looked like an ex-con. I didn´t catch his name but he wasn´t very friendly and also alerted us that we only had a reservation for 2 nights instead of 3. One of the few bad things Flying Dog has on their report card. We had an email confirmation but the ex-con didn´t sympathise for us at all and merely shrugged his shoulders.
The place is relatively new and has lot´s of shiny looking toys around the common areas. New kitchen, new computer with huge monitor and fast internet, big flat screen tv with lots of bootleg dvd´s, and a plush couch to curl up on. The place was crawling with backpackers, which sealed the deal in our minds as we realized we are too old to be staying in places like this (at least when traveling together, I can probably be satisfied with cramped floor space on a Vietnamese kitchen with the right group of guys, you know who you are). Our room was nice enough, an okay view of the colonial city and green hills as far as the eye can see. The shower has a tiny electric heater for it on the ceiling, only it´s dangerous for tall people because the metal tube that connects to the shower head is known for electrocuting when touched.
After some time catching our breathe and trying not to think about moving to another hostal for a night, we headed into town. The cobblestone streets and alleyways with people selling crafts are charming. Lot´s of teeny tiny little women walking around in colorful garbs, carrying heavy looking sacks of miscellaneous items on their backs. Some walk around with their daughters and baby alpacas trying to have tourists take photos of them for small change. Cuzco has the most reported incidences of theft and crime in any other city in Peru. We were on guard with our money stashed in secret pockets and we stuffed socks in the shirts of our arms to make us look buff (not really). It was hard to keep our wits about us when a small man with a dirty stained baseball cap was chasing his small heard of runaway donkeys down a busy street.
The food. Lot´s of fine dining options in Cuzo that cater to the upper class travelers here for Machuu Pichuu. Speciality food includes alpaca, cow testicle, guinea pigs, and corn beer that is made from the fermented saliva of local villages. They chew on dried pieces of corn and spit it into a giant pot, a tradition that dates back hundreds of years in this region.
The first night I had some trout from the nearby Rio Urabamba with a spicy passion fruit glaze and citrus mashed sweet potatoes. There is a local Cafe called ¨Jacks¨ that has a line going outside at all hours of the day. Really good breakfast and a great atmosphere, very reminiscent of a good breakfast spot from the states. So far we´ve had, giant banana pancakes with a maple infused caramel sauce, egg platters with home fries and and home-made bread with grilled tomatoes and pesto with a hint of mint, huevos rancheros with real salsa and tasty local beans, nachos made from frito corn chips (I know, sounds sacrilegious but it was incredible), and a grilled panini with smoked trout and caper cream cheese with real potato french fries and house made aioli. Yup, Jack´s is awesome and has fulfilled our craving for tasty breakfasts rather than the national standard, white bread and jam.
A few other food highlights to get them out of the way and to make you hungry. Pineapple coconut curry shrimps (Melanie had a version of this that had apple in it, very interesting combination of flavors and something that will be experimented with in the kitchen at home), mint risotto with smoked cheese, teriyaki trout skewers with panko crumbs and pepper rice.....and to our delight, we just found an Indian restaurant that is cheap as sin and deliciously spicy. Had two different kofta dishes with raisins and nuts, good korma and Melanie had some great creamed lentils.
Just thought I´d get the food portion over with so I can try and remember the rest of the many little details about our trip.
We took a long walk to the Mercado Central and were overwhelmed by everything it had to offer. The place was the size of the cow palace and took up 8 city blocks. The fragrant smells mixed from luscious to putrid. Rows upon rows of exotic jungle flowers, and then rows upon rows of butchered meat that sweltered in the claustrophobic heat of the building. Equally sized rows of breads, cakes, sweets, vegetables, potatoes (I list this separately as there is a separate isle just for taters as taters are rule the farm supreme here) hand bags, kitchen utensils, fruit juice (yup, it was like a swap meet for small time Jamba Juice junkies) food carts, and stinky fish. I was planning to get some vegetables and exotic spices as it was going to be our last night with kitchen access. I ended up not getting anything as walking still made me dizzy and I didn´t trust myself with my knife and also didn´t trust the backpacker kitchen.
Lot´s crafts here, better than any other place on this trip yet. We bought a few nice little things, a painting, and some small gourds that have incredibly detailed hand carvings on them. I fulfilled a long time dream of getting a hand-made chess board, Inca´s vs. Conquistadors, very cool except we know the sad outcome of the real battle.
We moved into our new room the following day. Even though the view wasn´t as nice, it made up for it on every other level. Nicer people, reliable hot water, tv, and much closer to the Plaza De Armas aka the town square. It was really nice since we were going to spend two nights in the sacred valley and come back to the same hotel, that way we could leave items with no hassle.
We had some problems with our train tickets from Peru Rail. Peru Rail has a monopoly on trains going to Machuu Pichuu and the Sacred Valley. Besides charging exorbitant prices for short distances, they aren´t very friendly to boot. I was having a problem with their website as they would only let me buy a one way ticket from Ollayantambo to Agua Calientes (aka Machuu Pichuu Pueblo), and no access back to Cuzco. We tried going down to the office but it was closed for Jesus day, Sunday. We went the first thing Monday morning, the day were to leave on the bus for Ollayantambo, crossing our fingers really hard in hopes we would get this sorted out. If the tickets were then sold out, we would have to change our plan drastically and miss out on part of the Sacred Valley in order to get to see Machuu Pichuu. I will also note here that at this point of our trip, going to Machuu Pichuu seemed like a necessary hassle, and we were looking forward to getting it over with.
The office was loaded with people. We took a number and had to wait an hour just to talk to somebody. Seeing irritated travelers at the rows of desks was doing nothing to get our hopes up. When it was finally our turn the lady told us that the return trains to Cuzco on the day we wanted to travel were now full and that there was nothing she could do. I asked if she could change our ticket for the following day, but she said she needed a printed copy, which we didn´t have, even though they had all of our information including our passport numbers in their system. We took another number knowing it would be at least another hour as the office was over filling in the late morning.
During that time, Melanie and I were cursing every other word and trying to figure out our options. I was convinced that there had to be another way to get to agua calientes besides the expensive train, 4 wheel drive Jungle bus? Ziplining through the trees? Hanglide? Melanie and I split up. She went to an internet cafe to print out our tickets and I went to a nearby travel agent to inquire about alternative means of transportation. The first travel agent told me in broken english that it was possible, but was trying to sign us on to a package that would include lodging and meals. We really just wanted a ride back to cuzco as we already paid for a train ticket to Agua Calientes as well as lodging. I tried another travel agent and she dispelled my hope of taking some sort of extreme jungle vehicle, as there really are no roads to Agua Calientes, just the train tracks and hiking trails. She did somehow manage to get us a train ticket, not sure how since Peru Rail itself couldn´t provide one but we weren´t complaining. The only thing was that the ticket would be waiting for us in Agua Calientes, one of their guides would meet us at the train station holding a sign with our names. Seemed to be a decent plan? Keep reading.
Stoked that we wouldn´t have to drastically change our plans, we took a mini-bus through the Sacred Valley to Ollayantambo. The valley was gorgeous, lots of high tiered farming over luscious green canyons and clear lakes. Lots more tiny women in brightly colored clothes and strange non-functional hats (Non-functional because they didn´t seem keep any sun out of one´s eyes). Lot´s of donkeys, cows, and giant sacks of potatoes were other common sights along the valley road.
We arrived in Ollayantambo just before dusk. The towering mountains and ruins loomed overhead of the tiny village. There is a great photo here where you can see the contrast of the village to the mountains. We unpacked our bags for our one night stay and loaded up on ibuprofen since our heads were pounding from the drastic altitude change and windy roads on the bus. We had some french fries and coca tea at small restaurant with a nautical theme, big ropes holding up antique chandeliers and old black and white photos from years past in the valley while we played dominoes. We walked around the town lined with cobblestone streets that was dimly lite from old style lamps. They had a great little plaza with overgrown sunflowers and monstrous datura plants that surrounded a bronze statue of an Inca warrior. We looked at many restaurants in hopes for some Melanie friendly food, found a nice place that she could settle on right next to the roaring river that seemed good but decided to keep looking just in case. Our guide book recommended a place at the edge of town, had nice patio garden and colorful lights that matched the funky decor inside. It was pretty dead, and after looking at the menu we didn´t think it was the right place for Melanie food but the owner was there and insisted that we stay and that her chef could make her anything she wanted. Seeing this as some sort of omen, we stupidly decided to stay. The food was awful and boring. Melanie was supposed to get rice and veggies cooked in basil and spices with a tomato based sauce. The result was plain steamed veggies and white rice. I had a small sampler plate with bad cheese and cold beer. Good thing they didn´t make the beer!
We woke up feeling motivated, first to find some good food to re-layer our sumptuous palates, then to hike up to the ruins and explore for several hours before our train to Agua Calientes. The ruins entrance was a short walk from town, the hike up is what takes time. The tiered stone walls were impressive, even more so when you reach the top and appreciate how long it must have taken to haul up the large boulders and how many people it took. It was a good preview to what was to come in Machuu Pichuu. At the same time, after walking some ways within the ruins, our brains started gravitating to thinking ¨it´s just a bunch of rocks¨, albeit impressive history, but a bunch of rocks nonetheless, and much more impressive looking at them from a distance to see their intricate layout and design. We had a good lunch, Melanie with a hearty bowl of miso soup, and me some local trout skewers with panko crumbs and teriyaki sauce.
We got the aftenoon train to Agua Calientes and it had spectacular scenery. More giant mountains with mist and fog around the summits edges, along with lush jungle forests with colorful birds and the roaring Urubamba river. We were starting to feel the Machuu Pichuu buzz, getting really excited about the expensive portion of our trip.
We arrived and the train station was packed. Tourists in all shapes and sizes flooded the area waiting to catch their train back to Cuzco as most visitors make Machuu Pichuu a day trip from the 3 hour ride to Cuzco. We saw a handful of people holding up signs at the entrance area, none of which had our names on it. The tropical rain started to pound, the herds of tourists ducking for cover under awnings, rain coats, and trash bags. Melanie watched our stuff while I stood in the rain trying to use the pay phone to call our contact person who had our return train tickets. The number wasn´t working, and after several frustrating tries, we marched through the rain to our hotel in hopes we could figure this outthat evening.
Our hotel was nice, a huge group of American teenage girls from Melrose on a high school trip lounged around the lobby which was good eavesdropping entertainment while we tried not to freak out about our tickets. The boy at the counter was really nice, and helped us get ahold of the travel agency in Cuzco where we purchased our return tickets. They said the guy with the tickets would be there in 30 minutes and to not worry. 1 hour later we called back and they said he would be coming by our hotel in the morning, and to not worry. Pretty miffed, since we called them back, and if we didn´t, how much longer were they going to keep us waiting in our hotel lobby before they called?
We went out to an overpriced vegetarian restaurant and ate a small plate of food. Soon we discovered that everything in Agua Calientes is 3 times the cost of anywhere else in Peru given the remote locatation and high density of tourism, knowing they would have no choice but to pay up. We were exhausted from our day, and knew the following day would be even longer with waking up at dawn for Machuu Pichuu and the train and bus back to Cuzco in the evening.
Our train ticket arrived sometime in the night. We were very relieved but also wanted to curse the guy out for being a flake. The early bus in the morning climbed steep up the mountain that was shrouded in mist. The entrance gate was already crowded, several hundred people looking for coffee as they completed the 3/4 day trip hiking the Inca trail.
Okay, we hope not to dispel any of the magic of Machuu Pichuu here, but we have some gripes with our experience. It was pretty, it was, very impressive again about moving rocks up this mountains and how the lived. The mountain scape is gorgeous, the surrounding area is too, but the whole thing was over in 5 hours, and could have been done in 2 hours if we didn´t hike up the adjacent mountain side for something to do. We did this trip pretty cheaply too, most people pay 400 dollars for their plane tickets to Cuzco from Lima (because they buy the tickets from their native foreign counties rather than buying them once in Peru), and we paid 150 two days before our flight, with more planning it can be 80. Anyhow, we dropped alot of cash on top of that, and don´t think it was worth it. It was beautiful, but like we said earlier about the ruins in Ollayantambo, it was much prettier from a distance. We would be more than happy to talk more about this with any of you in person, but thats it in a nutshell. It´s pretty much like disneyland for south america.
The way back to Cuzco was long. The train was dark and crowded. Then our packs were on the top of the bus and it started to pour rain. The driver pulled them down for us and they managed to crunch on our laps in the very crowded space. A sick Korean girl next to us was sympathetic and provided good conversation. I got a massage in Cuzco the following day, today I´m nursing my wounds. She beat me up pretty bad, nail marks and bruises.
We´re back in Lima now, counting down the days to our departure. Not much left to do here, gonna meet up with a friend of a friend, and also go to the gold museum. Melanie is stoked to return, last night a restaurant put steak in her beans on a ¨vegetarian¨ taco.
Much luv everybody, this might be the last post, maybe one more.
TandM
